Part Of The Plan
by flashpenguin
Summary: A serial rapist terrorizes the DC area. While investigating, tragedy finds Morgan as the case hits close to home. Will he break the case before it breaks him? Inspired by Dan Fogelberg's song "Part of The Plan". COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

_Keeping it fresh and new is the greatest challenge of any writer. On the advice of a dear friend (and a chance viewing of "Forensic Files"), I have decided to write this story around Morgan. The story is based on a true case, but overall it's all mine. Although the subject is about rape and mutilation, I will try to keep it on the down low and let the reader's imagination do most of the work. _

_This is dedicated to Matt--you are my biggest fan and I am so blessed to have you as my friend!_

_I don't own "Criminal Minds"---but I can still wish! _

**Part Of The Plan**

_Time: 0100_

_Place: Washington, D.C._

_Carol Hawn stood, stretched, and turned off the TV. Her shift at the hospital was to start in six hours, but she had yet to fall asleep. It probably didn't help that she had pulled a double shift the night before and now her body was beyond exhausted and incapable of sleeping. She had tried everything, and after watching the second repeat of a news show on FOX, she realized that maybe sleep was not in the stars that night._

_Sighing heavily, she started to make her way to the kitchen when a fierce pounding on the front door caused her to jump out of her skin. Setting the coffee cup and plate on the counter, she hurried over and peaked thru the peep hole in the door. A man was standing there, drenched from the rain, and looking confused._

"_What the hell?" Carol muttered and unlocked the door, making sure she kept the chain on. "Yes? Can I help you?"_

_A contrite looking face greeted her. "I'm sorry ma'am, but my car broke down and I have to get to work. Might I be able to use your phone to call my boss and tell him I'm running late?"_

_Normally a Good Samaritan, Carol started to say yes, but hesitated. "I-I'm sorry, but I can't help you. You don't have a cell phone?"_

"_It died. Look, I don't want to get fired; I just want to call him. It will only take a minute."_

_Carol shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't let you in. Good night."_

_The man nodded in understanding. "No problem. Good night, ma'am."_

_Carol closed the door, threw the dead bolt, and extra security lock, and checked the chain twice. She rubbed her hands over her forearms to ward off an unexpected chill. The man didn't seem 'creepy", but who knocks on a door at 0100 to ask for a phone to use?_

_Turning out the lights, Carol called the cat into the bedroom, got under the covers, and tried to fall asleep even though the face of the stranger haunted her.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Creeping around the house, a stranger lurked, trying the windows and finding nothing to help his cause. Slowly he made his way to the back of the house and tried the fourth window down. A heavy tug on the corner and it lifted without any effort._

_Heaving himself up, he pulled himself inside the bathroom. Stepping down from the toilet, he walked to the door and opened it. Stepping into the hallway, he looked around and took in his surroundings while blindly making his way to the kitchen. Opening a few drawers, he found the knives. Drawing one out, he looked at it in the faint light coming off the microwave clock/counter._

_Nice, he thought to himself. Very nice._

_Carol turned over in her sleep and moved the cat off the bed. Letting out a small groan, she pulled the covers up higher and felt the mattress dip down. Her sleep fatigued brain tried to figure out if the cat had suddenly gained weight._

"_Biff?" she called out. Opening her eyes, Carol saw something dark hovering over her. What in the world? _

"_Hello, bitch. Can I use your phone now?" the voice taunted and moved the knife to her throat. Carol tried to register the events but was unable._

"_What do you want?" she whispered._

_A snaky laugh filled the quiet room and chilled her blood. "I thought we might play a game. The rule is that I do whatever I want and you don't make any noise." He ran the knife across Carol's throat and down the valley between her breasts. "If you abide by the rules, I won't kill you."_

_Quickly Carol's hands and feet were tied while the intruder began his torture. Unable to scream for help, Carol could only lie there and take the beatings and torment afflicted to her body. Over and over she dealt with the abuse from her punisher._

_Just as she was on the verge of blacking out, the intruder stopped the torture and stood up. Her eyes closed, she could hear him getting dressed and prayed that he would just leave. Please God, make him leave, she cried silently. She wondered how to get out of the binds around her wrists and get to the phone, when she heard his voice._

"_Did you enjoy it?"_

_Carol, her mouth gagged, mutely nodded. All her self-defense classes had taught her that going along with an attacker was the best way to survive. _

"_You were pretty good…maybe one of the best I've had." He paused. "But unfortunately, you weren't the best."_

_Carol's eyes widened in horror. Struggling against her binds, she tried to move off the bed as she saw the knife coming at her. The first thrust of the blade was like white fire against her skin and she tried to scream but the gag absorbed the sound._

_Over and over she felt the blade thrust into her body as she pulled herself into fetal position to ward off the blows. She felt the blood leaving her body as she silently cried for help and her mother. As the darkness overwhelmed her, Carol realized her attacker was speaking--asking her a question._

"_You still alive bitch?" he growled. Overcome by fatigue and blood loss, Carol could only flutter her eyes in response._

_The last thing she remembered was the knife against her throat and then merciful darkness._

_Stepping back from Carol's body, the figure looked at her in disgust. _

"_Next time some one asks to use the phone, you let them," he spat. Leaning over, he used the corner of the sheet to wipe off the handle and blade of the knife. Then he threw it on Carol's lifeless form. Bending over, he dipped his finger in one of her wounds and swirled it around on her abdomen. Then gathering the used condoms, he made his way into the bathroom and flushed them before cleaning himself up._

_Turning off the tap, he dried his hands and face off on the towel hanging off the hook. Looking around, he took in the pretty feminine touches that decorated the small space. Nice, he thought with a shrug. Knowing that his mission was complete and with no where to run off to, he stepped from the bathroom to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich._

_Rinsing off the dish and knife, he placed them in the sink. Then he crept to the sliding glass door, unlocked it, and let himself out. Closing it behind him, he quietly slipped into the darkness._

_In the bedroom, Biff was frantically trying to rouse his mistress. Over and over he rubbed his body against her lifeless hand that hung over the side of the mattress. Crying out, he jumped up and began licking her face. Getting no response, he curled up beside her and tried to keep her warm while his desperate purring filled the room._


	2. Chapter 2

_I know the first chapter was unusual and brutal. I believe that if I am going to write a crime story, I am going all out. This chapter is going to bring us up to date with where the case is and our profilers are going to do their best to make sure the UNSUB gets caught quickly. All cases mentioned in this chapter are true, but have _**NOT**_ been mentioned as glorification any particular crime. They are mentioned here, as in the show, to help the story along. Once again, for clarity, I don't own Criminal Minds._

**Part of The Plan**

**BAU Headquarters, Quantico, VA**

**0800**

Another day dawned at the BAU. As usual, Emily Prentiss was running late. Of all the mornings she had to be caught behind an old woman who decided to drive two miles down the road with a right blinker flashing. By the time she pulled into the FBI parking lot, Emily was determined to run for office and pass a law that made car companies install time limits on flashers.

Setting her purse down, she looked over to the desk beside hers. Empty. Her mouth curved in an "O" as it dawned on her that Derrick Morgan was running late. She was going to have to write this one down for her record books.

Grabbing her coffee cup, she walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself a strong scalding cup of Joe. Just as she was adding in the Splenda, her eye caught Morgan bounding in. Her eyebrows drawn together, Emily watched her partner literally dance into the bullpen.

"Good morning," she greeted.

"It most certainly is," Morgan replied. "It most certainly is. Got any of that for me?" Before Emily could reply, he took the cup from her and downed it. With a smile, he thrust the cup at her.

Emily looked at the cup and then at Morgan. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Derrick Morgan?"

Morgan gave her a wide grin. "I'm still me."

"No, you're not. You just drank my coffee which has Splenda in it; you never drink Splenda." Emily poured herself another cup. "What's her name?"

"What makes you think it's a woman?"

Emily turned to give him a sly grin. "Hmm, let's see: the bounce in your step, drinking coffee with Splenda, wearing a tie when you have no pending meeting with Strauss… I am thinking either you have a woman, or you ran out of clean t-shirts."

Before Morgan could reply, Rossi appeared. "Morning Prentiss. Morning, Derrick: what's her name?" he asked casually and poured himself a cup of coffee.

Stunned, Morgan looked at Rossi then at Emily. "What?" Rossi pointed to Morgan's tie. Giving up, Morgan stood up and grabbed his cup. "She's likes ties, okay?"

Emily couldn't hide her smile. "I knew it. So when do we get to meet her?"

"Soon." Morgan pushed her aside and grabbed the carafe.

"Soon soon? Or soon never?" Emily asked.

"Soon."

"This is so exciting. I feel like my baby brother is finally growing up."

"Who is growing up?" Reid asked as he rounded the corner.

"Morgan has a girlfriend," Emily announced.

"She is not a 'girl-friend'," he replied indignantly, "she is a 'lady-friend'. And yes, we have been seeing each other for a while. Last night we decided to take our relationship to the next level."

Before Emily could reply, JJ walked up.

"Hey guys, we got a bad case. Hotch wants us in the office in five." Casting a glance at the group, she shot Morgan a look. "Nice tie." Turning around, JJ walked off to get the office ready.

Morgan rolled his eyes and followed her. Rossi and Prentiss gave each other a sly smile and fell into step behind their co-workers. Reid, still trying to figure out what transpired, rushed to catch up.

Taking seats around the table, JJ handed out the manila file folders then turned on the PowerPoint presentation.

"Five nights ago Celeste Reynosa was attacked, raped, and stabbed to death in her bedroom. The UNSUB broke in thru the spare bedroom window and after grabbing a knife from the kitchen, bound, gagged, and raped her repeatedly before stabbing her 37 times. When she didn't show up to work for two days, a co-worker came to her home and found this." JJ clicked over to the crime scene photo.

Wordlessly, Rossi and Emily leaned in to get a better look while Morgan just glanced up and then back at the folder. Reid tried to analyze the scene and Hotch watched his team.

"What is that on her stomach?" Emily asked.

"A smiley face. The UNSUB's calling card. It seems that after he stabbed her, he drew this on her stomach in her blood."

"A calling card UNSUB?" Morgan asked.

"Not unique for serial killers, but very unusual for rapists," Rossi commented.

"The 'Zodiac Killer' left his calling card of a zodiac sign at his crime scenes, and then used it to taunt the police when he sent them letters. In addition, The Manson family left the words 'PIG' and 'Helter Skelter' at the scene of their crimes. Dennis Rader left his signature mark BTK on the letters he sent police," Morgan compared true crime to what was before him.

"Well in the case of the Zodiac, there was no sexual assault and he targeted men and women," Emily commented.

"Though, for the BTK, there was sexual assault before and after he bound and tortured them," Rossi read over the police notes and autopsy report. Crimes always had a link to one another, it was finding which link bound them to solving the case.

"But for the Green River Killer, he would torture them, kill them, and then sexually assault them," Reid spouted off from memory.

"But there was no post mortem sexual assault here. And it appeared that he took his time stabbing her."

"Well, two nights ago, Carol Hawn was attacked while she slept, bound, and then raped repeatedly. Then he stabbed her 13 times, slit her throat, and made himself something to eat." JJ clicked the pictures on the screen. "She had a morning shift at the hospital and never showed up. A co-worker literally busted down the door after hearing the cat crying."

"The Manson Family bound and stabbed the La Biancas then took a shower, changed clothes, and made themselves something to eat," Prentiss observed the parallels between the cases.

"Why weren't we notified earlier?" Morgan asked.

"The police didn't think there was a link until Carol Hawn was at the hospital and the ER physician found this." She clicked over to the photo of a smeared bloody smiley face on the victim's abdomen. "She's under guard at Bethesda."

"Why?" Morgan asked.

"Police wanted her under protection incase the UNSUB came back to finish the job. They moved her last night. Her condition is critical but stable. Unfortunately, the slice across her throat severed her voice box."

"Was there any forensic evidence?"

JJ shook her head. "He wiped the knife clean, he used a condom, but there was a partial on the bathroom window sill. Unfortunately, ViCAP has had no hits."

Rossi let out his breath. "So we have a serial killer/serial rapist running around DC stabbing and slashing his victims and using condoms to hide his DNA. Then he draws a smiley face in their blood."

"That is one sick bastard," Morgan remarked.

Hotch stood up. "Rossi, I want you and Prentiss to go to the hospital and question Carol Hawn--I know she can't talk but find out what you can. Mabe she remembers something unique to the UNSUB. Reid and Morgan, you are to check out both houses and see what you can find that might give us a clue to where he might have been hiding, or how he got in. Check with the neighbours and question if they noticed anything out of the ordinary--if he got into the two victims' houses, he may have tried a few before settling."

Everyone started gathering their folders. Hotch continued. "JJ, get with Garcia and see if you can find out the schedule of these two women for the past two weeks. Check into if their paths crossed, if they have any relationships on or over. Find out if they have had problems at work."

"I'm on it," JJ turned off the computer and grabbed her folders.

"Everyone is to meet back here at 1400. I have an appointment with the police. They want to make a statement, but we need to find out what we can first." Hotch closed his folder.

"A statement already? What for?" Morgan questioned with bewilderment. "I know it's serious, but this could send the city into a frenzy especially since we don't know if the two crimes are connected."

"Some one at the newspaper got wind of a possible serial killer leaving calling cards and the paper wants to lead with that for the evening edition," JJ answered quickly.

Rossi looked at Hotch. "We don't even know what we are dealing with; a police statement could backfire. Especially if he is doing this for media attention. Calling him out might make him snap and commit more crimes."

"Exactly," Hotch agreed. "Get to the hospital and find out what you can. Call me with an update."

Rossi and Prentiss left the room. Morgan and Reid followed closely behind.

Hotch spent a moment looking at the folder. Then he looked at JJ.

"This is a very unusual case Hotch. What do you think his motive is?"

"At this point, I would say that it's a possible drifter getting sexual gratification both physically and emotionally."

"What are the odds of him striking again?"

"Unfortunately, there's no way of knowing. Maybe once the team gets back and Garcia finds out what she can, we can get the profile up."

"I'm on it Hotch." JJ left the room and Hotch headed to his office.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Special Agent David Rossi with the BAU," Rossi introduced himself to the attending physician. "This is Special Agent Emily Prentiss." The both showed their identification. "We were told that Carol Hawn was brought here for treatment. We need to talk to her."

The doctor nodded. "Yes sir, she was. Her injuries were extensive. The stab wounds missed most of her internal organs although she did suffer wounds to her spleen, kidney and lung."

Rossi wrote that down in his notepad. "Her throat was slashed?"

"Yes it was."

"But her co-worker didn't find her until hours after this happened. How is it possible that she survived?" Prentiss observed.

"Obviously your rapist knows knives and how to slash someone, but he doesn't know much about medicine. I guess after he left, she pulled herself into fetal position and with her head down, it kept her throat from bleeding extensively. That move is what saved her life."

"She is a nurse," Rossi reflected.

The doctor nodded in agreement. "And, she's a very lucky lady."

"Can we see her?" Prentiss asked.

"She can't talk and she's still under heavy medication for the pain. I don't know how coherent she might be."

"We just want to ask her a couple of questions. That is all. We'll make sure it's quick," Prentiss promised.

The doctor hesitated for a moment before his voice dropped in tone. "There is one more thing. Who ever this guy was, he was brutal. I have seen a lot of things being in the ER, but when they brought her in…that scared me. He really…hurt her. Carol Hawn had to have an emergency hysterectomy due to the violence he committed against her. We haven't told her yet."

"Why are you telling us?" Rossi asked. He tried to keep his face neutral, but there was no way he could hide the flash of anger that crossed his face. He hated all violence against women.

"I thought maybe this would help capture him. Whoever he is, he has an intense hatred of women." All were quiet for a moment. "Um, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to her room."

Rossi and Prentiss followed quietly behind the doctor.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry for taking so long on this update. I had to go out of town for a while to make arrangements to move across the state. Thanks to all who have reviewed. Hopefully this chapter will make up for my absence. I had an idea on how I wanted this chapter to go, but life got in the way, so now I am going to just let my fingers do the walking. Hopefully it will be in the right direction. Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. And I don't own Derrick Morgan. Why is it I ALWAYS draw the short straw?_

**Part Of The Plan**

Reid and Morgan accompanied the detective at Carol Hawn's house as they gathered evidence to help build a profile of the UNSUB. Looking at the crime scene room by room, the detective remarked how they found the second bedroom window open and then traced the steps from the kitchen to the bedroom and back to the kitchen.

With a trained police officer's eye, Morgan walked over to the bedroom window. Peering closely he noticed a couple of red spots. "Detective Jordan, get one of your forensics guys over here; I think we have something."

Detective Jordan came over to the window. "What is it?"

Morgan used his pen to point at the sill. "Right there. I think our UNSUB cut himself before he got inside. This could give us a DNA profile and maybe we can locate him before he causes any further damage."

"If he's in the data base," Detective Jordan remarked.

"We'll see and when we get the results, our Technical Analyst will be on it."

"That quickly?"

Morgan flipped open his phone. "No, she's that good." He left the forensics team to gather the evidence as he called Hotch.

"What do you have Morgan?"

"We found a couple of blood spots on the window sill. It's on its way to be analyzed for DNA."

"You think he might be in the system?" Hotch asked.

Morgan shrugged. "I can hope. This guy is good. He knew which window to go thru and he knew that she was alone."

"Did you and Reid get a chance to talk to any neighbours?"

"It appears he made a couple of random visits before he settled on Carol Hawn. Two doors that were answered by men were greeted with a figure running away. Five houses had dogs. And the three women who live alone say they never heard any one knocking."

"So our UNSUB was casing houses looking for single women without a male figure present."

"I told you this guy is good."

"Did any of the neighbours who answered the door get a good look at the UNSUB?"

Morgan opened his notepad. "Nothing much. One described a Caucasian male in a grey hoodie and blue jeans. Clean shaven and of medium height. Another described a dark skinned male in a white sweat shirt and black slacks. Shaved head and about six feet tall."

"Well, at midnight, it's understandable that they wouldn't have gotten a good look at him. Did you let Forensics know to contact Garcia when they get the DNA results back?"

"Yes. Any progress with Rossi and Prentiss?"

"Carol Hawn was groggy and a bit incoherent, but she did write down that the UNSUB was glowing."

"Glowing? Do you think she meant he was bald?" Morgan motioned for Reid. "Well, one of the neighbour's described a bald man, perhaps this could be our guy."

"Remember that press conference is at 1400. Did you and Reid get to Celeste Reynosa's residence?"

"We did. I'm going to finish my briefing with the detective here on the scene and Reid and I should be back in within the hour."

"See you then."

Morgan ended the call. "Detective Jordan, out of curiosity, was any hair found on the bed?"

"We found a bunch of blonde hair and cat hair. We gathered up everything and sent it down to the lab for testing."

"Two of our agents visited with Carol Hawn this morning and she described a bald man."

"I'll let the lab techs know."

"Thanks." Morgan shook the detective's hand. "Reid, you got everything? We gotta go."

Together they stepped outside.

"I talked to Hotch; the press conference is still taking place." Morgan walked over to the SUV and opened the driver's side door.

Reid opened the passenger door and furrowed his brow. "Without a profile?"

"Looks that way."

"Maybe JJ can keep them calm." Reid fastened his seat belt.

"We can hope." Morgan fastened his seat belt, started the engine, and put the vehicle in drive.

________________________________________________________________________________________  
JJ threw herself into a chair and tried to catch her breath. The others followed suit.

"JJ are you alright?" Hotch asked.

JJ shook her head. Of all the years she had been briefing the press, never had one gotten so carried away that Hotch had to break in and bring it to a halt.

"I-I don't get it; how in the world did they get a picture of the UNSUB's calling card?" JJ took a deep breath.

"It had to have been someone at the police department."

"What in heaven's name could that achieve? We don't even have a complete outline of this guy yet," Rossi scanned the folder with the evidence.

"Perhaps they are trying to flush him out. Maybe they think if they let him know that we are on to him, he might screw up," Reid replied.

"Or go off and completely lose it. Whereas he was spacing his kills, this might be the thing that pushes him over the edge," Morgan observed.

"Which means no woman in a fifty mile radius will be safe," Prentiss commented and looked at Rossi.

"In any case, we know he's a loner with an intense hatred of women, possibly single, with anger management problems, possibly employed. Definitely has transportation since the two crime scenes were nearly ten miles apart. We got that part out. Maybe this will make people vigilant and report anything out of the ordinary. Or not open their doors to strangers," Rossi commented.

"Nothing that Garcia researched could even tie the two victims together. Different occupations, different life-styles. Carol Hawn is a registered nurse who tended to pull double shifts. She is divorced, but her ex lives in California. Celeste Reynosa was an interior decorator for a huge firm out of Boston. Her fiancé was overseas on business in Taiwan during the attack," Morgan supplied and closed his folder.

"He uses a condom to hide evidence, he wipes down his prints, and he attacks at night when it's for sure that he can get a clean get away," Prentiss offered. Subconsciously she tapped her middle finger against her cheek as if the answer was right there but eluded her.

Rossi took a drink of his coffee, which had grown cold, and blanched. "Well, we know that he has been targeting women who are single and have no protection---i.e. alarm systems, lights, and dogs. Whoever he is, he is one cunning bastard."

"No matter if he is cunning or lucky, nothing can change the fact that the press conference was a disaster. Now we have the whole area in a panic. The only good thing is that they weren't aware of the DNA evidence found at one of the scenes, so we have a grace period to figure out how to nail this guy before he strikes again," Hotch commented and stood up. Gathering his folders, he motioned to Rossi.

"Rossi and I are going to brief Director Strauss on the press conference and where the investigation stands at this moment. I would suggest that the rest of you go home and get some rest. Don't go anywhere because you could be called in at a moment's notice. Morgan, I want you to follow JJ home. Prentiss, I want you to stay here because Rossi is going follow you home."

"What about Garcia?" Reid inquired as he drew the satchel strap of his bag over his head.

"Kevin will be taking her home since they share a ride." Casting a look at his team, Hotch tried not to think of anything bad ever happening to them. "All of you are to call me the moment you get to your residences. Understand?" The team nodded in agreement. "Okay, let's get this out of the way Dave." Quietly the two men left the room.

"I can't believe that Hotch has Rossi following me home," Prentiss huffed and sat back down.

"He's looking out for you," JJ soothed.

Prentiss buried her face in her hands. "I just hope he isn't as anal retentive with that duty as he is with everything else. Dear lord, I don't want him calling me every hour on the hour."

"Call _me_ when you get home, okay? Will wanted to go out tonight, but I think we are going to postpone it. What about you, Morgan? You got plans tonight?"

He smiled at his female counterparts. "Let's just say that one lucky lady in the area is going to be very well protected by one Derrick Morgan."

"Can we call and warn her first?" Prentiss teased.

Morgan shot her a look. "And to think I was going to do you a favour and bring her in. You lost that chance. I think I'm going to tell Rossi to call you every hour to check on your status."

Prentiss balled up a piece of paper and threw it at Morgan's head. Quickly he ducked. "Don't you dare tell him to call me, or I'll be calling you after he calls me."

Morgan bent over and picked up the paper wad and tossed it to Prentiss. "Nuh uh. See, I have your number coded with a special tone to notify me that it's you."

"Do I want to know?" Prentiss asked warily.

"No."

"Hey," JJ announced with a sweet smile. "I hate to break up this fun moment but I have a baby at home who desperately needs to see his mother and be fed."

Morgan jumped forward. "I'm sorry JJ. Let me grab a couple of things off my desk and then we can go." Together they left the room.

Making sure he had his wallet, keys, and folder, Morgan escorted JJ to the elevator and pressed the down button.

"So, are you really going to tell Rossi to call Emily every hour?" JJ asked and boosted her purse strap higher on her shoulder.

"If I know Rossi, he won't be calling Prentiss because he'll already be at her place." Morgan kept his eyes straight forward.

JJ's mouth dropped open. "You mean…?"

"Nothing I can prove at the moment. But don't you dare tell Garcia," he warned. The bell sounded and the elevator doors opened. JJ stepped inside.

"You do realize that for me to keep quiet, you are going to have to bring your 'lady-friend' by for a visit, right?" JJ teased sweetly.

Morgan fell in place beside her and hit the ground floor button. His mouth twitched in humour and annoyance. "Her name is Amy," he responded as the doors closed together.


	4. Chapter 4

_In the words of our dear profilers: this UNSUB is one sick bastard! But that can't be helped. He is what he is and it is the job of our team to find him before he can commit more crimes. Unfortunately, this story as with life is not going to go that smoothly. This chapter is going to be a little of everything---at least, that is what I am shooting for. As much as I would love to go full noir, I believe that even behind the blackest of clouds, the sun will try to peek out. I don't own Criminal Minds and I don't write for them either. Damn my Irish luck!_______________________________________________________________________________________

**Part of The Plan**

JJ pulled her chair up alongside Prentiss. "So, how did your night go? Sleep well?"

Prentiss looked up from her typing. "I suppose. Every single creak and knock on the door down the hallway kept me awake."

"So…Rossi didn't call you every hour on the hour?" JJ tried to profile her friend and co-worker.

Prentiss yawned. "Hmm, no actually he didn't. Though he was part of the reason I didn't sleep well."

"What!"

Prentiss shook her head. "Not like that. He slept on the couch." She grabbed her coffee cup and stood up. "I swear that man has supersonic hearing!" She poured the coffee and added the Splenda. "He would hear something, jump up and race to the door. In the mean time, every time he did that, it woke me up. I think he finally wore himself out at two in the morning." Prentiss sipped and looked at JJ. "Either that or I passed out from fatigue."

JJ tried to stifle a smirk behind her hand. Unable to contain her snickering, she laughed out loud.

"What is so funny?" Prentiss remarked.

"You two. I am to honestly believe that Rossi spent the night at your place and slept on the couch?"

Prentiss looked over the rim of her cup. "Morgan's spreading rumours again?"

"It's no longer a rumor Em. Honestly, if you two want to have something, go for it. Garcia has Kevin, I have Will, Morgan has Amy, and you and Rossi have each other. It's only normal; we all need someone. Now if we could just find that someone for Hotch." JJ's voice drifted off.

"Amy? That's her name? How did you find out?" Prentiss nearly bubbled with excitement.

"Morgan told me last night. He might even bring her around."

"When?"

"Are you going to tell me the truth?"

"JJ!"

"Emily!" JJ mocked sarcastically.

Prentiss rolled her eyes. "Okay. Okay. The truth is--"

"Morgan is here and someone is with him," JJ interrupted. Quickly the two women tried to appear busy.

Walking with Amy, Morgan made his way over to Prentiss and JJ.

"SSA Emily Prentiss and SSA Jennifer Jarreau, I would like you to meet Special Agent Amy Churchill."

Standing up, Prentiss and JJ greeted Amy with a handshake.

"It's great to finally meet you. Derek has told me so much about the two of you. Although you guys are pretty famous already."

"Really?" Prentiss inquired. "I hope that it's all good."

Amy looked at JJ's desk. "Oh how adorable! Is that your son?"

JJ beamed as she handed a photo to Amy. "That's my Henry. He just turned 2."

"He's precious."

"So, you're an agent too?" Prentiss inquired.

Amy nodded and handed the photo back to JJ. "I'm in the Linguist Department. I translate Russian and Mandarin."

"Mandarin? I'm pretty impressed. I always wanted to learn that."

"Oh? What do you speak?" Amy asked.

"Spanish, Italian, and Arabic."

"You're kidding! I always wanted to learn Arabic. Right now I am trying to get into one of the classes, but they fill up so quickly."

"Hey, if you are willing to teach me Mandarin, I might be willing to reciprocate."

"It's a deal."

Hotch walked by. "Hi Morgan. Hello Agent Churchill. Good to see you again."

"Hello Agent Hotchner," Amy replied. "Good to see you too."

"Agent Morgan introduce you around?"

"Yes sir, he did. In fact, Agent Prentiss and I were just comparing Linguistics notes. I can't seem to get in on the Arabic class, so she is going to coach me."

Hotch nodded. "Agent Prentiss is one of the best Arabic translators here at Quantico. I have no doubt you will be ahead of the class when you get in."

"Thank you sir."

Hotch looked at his team. "I hate to break this up, but we have another case. Rossi thinks it might be a copycat. I need you guys to assemble in the room." He turned to Amy and extended his hand. "Let me know if I can help you in any way."

"I will do that."

Hotch walked away. Everyone gave an uncomfortable glance or shift.

"I guess I should let you guys get back to work," Amy apologized.

"No, it's alright. It's just that this case is a bad one," Prentiss offered.

"I know. I saw it on the news. I sure hope you guys catch him."

Morgan looked at Amy. "Do you want me to walk you to the elevator?"

"I can find my way." She shook Prentiss and JJ's hands. "It was a pleasure meeting you both." Amy looked around. "I was really hoping to meet Agent Rossi. I guess next time."

"Call me so we can get together," Prentiss reminded.

"I will give you a call tonight," Amy replied. Turning, she squeezed Morgan's hands. "See you later."

"You too." He watched her walked off.

"Come on stud muffin, we have a meeting to attend," Prentiss coaxed.

"Stud muffin?" Morgan sputtered as though he had just drunk something vile.

"I owe you for spreading rumours. And this is only the start."

Morgan groaned. "You'd better not teach her all the Arabic bad words."

Prentiss just laughed.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________

"How was Morgan's lady friend?" Rossi asked as he took the glass of wine from Prentiss.

"Charming. An absolutely wonderful young lady. Her name is Amy Churchill. Seems she is a Linguist for the FBI."

"Really?" Rossi sipped. Prentiss settled down on the couch and tucked her legs under.

"She was disappointed that she didn't get to meet you. It appears you have quite the following." Prentiss's eyes snapped with mischief.

Rossi raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I guess I will have to drop in on her and say hello."

"It seems she wants to learn Arabic. And since I want to learn Mandarin, we figured it was an even trade."

"This has nothing to do with finding out all you can about Morgan?"

Prentiss waved him off. "Morgan is an open book. Besides, any guy who loves to read Kurt Vonnegut is okay with me."

Rossi appeared surprised. "You're a Vonnegut fan?"

Prentiss nodded. "Probably the second biggest after Morgan."

Rossi placed his glass on the coffee table and moved in closer to Prentiss. "Well, Emily Prentiss, aren't you a wealth of secrets? Is there anything else about you I don't know?"

"JJ knows about us and Morgan suspects."

His eyes focused on her mouth. "Besides that."

Feeling the heat of his body pressed against her, Prentiss tried to catch her breath as she looked into his eyes. "I like to sleep on the left side of the bed," she breathed.

"Me too," he replied and covered her lips with his effectively cutting off her response.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Turning on the bedside lamp, Hotch reached over for his folder. Opening it, he perused it line by line. Something kept nagging at him in the back of his mind that he was missing something, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

When the police had called to report another murder had occurred, the team jumped on it. Just before they were to make a conclusion, Rossi had spotted something out of the ordinary. Bruises on the victim's throat and one to the temple. Plus the victim had been found on the floor of the living room. Not their UNSUB's MO.

It only took a couple of keystrokes for Garcia to pull up Emerson Waverly's history: multiple restraining orders against her ex boyfriend and a justice system that had continually failed her. During her last court hearing to get the latest injunction, she told the judge how her life was in danger every time she walked out the door. How prophetic her words were….now.

Right before the press conference, the coroner came back that Emerson Waverly had been asphyxiated. The stab wounds were made post mortem as was the rape.

A sardonic smile tugged on Hotch's lip. Was it luck or fate that they had deliberately withheld the information about the UNSUB using condoms? Maybe the system had failed that young lady, but the DNA evidence her killer left behind would be more than enough to exact justice on her behalf.

Running a hand over his tired eyes, Hotch realized that he wasn't getting anywhere with his late night reading of facts he knew by heart. But he knew that somehow, in some way the two victims were related. But how? What was the one thing that linked them?

Setting the folder aside, Hotch turned off the light and got under the covers.

Unfortunately his gut kept telling him that something bad was going to happen. He had felt it before with Haley, and now it was coming on strong again.

Reaching an arm across the mattress to where Haley used to sleep Hotch convinced himself that he was still grieving. Closing his eyes he willed himself to sleep.

Maybe in the morning the feeling would go away.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________

_"Police are confirming that the latest murder of Arlington school teacher Emerson Waverly was in fact a copy cat. Sources close to the FBI refused to go into detail about the evidence found at the crime scene, but a detective close to the case said that they arrested Ms Waverly's boyfriend for her murder. It appears there was a long history of abuse and police reports show repeated attempts to get restraining orders on behalf of Ms Waverly. School officials had no comment but will have counselors on hand when students return to class tomorrow. In other news, thunderstorms in Delaware lead to power outages earlier to---"_

The reporter's spiel was cut short as the TV went dark. Sitting in the room, on the side of his bed, a lone figure spat out a curse word. _Just who the hell did they think they were trying to cash in on his fame?_ All day long he had to pick up after them---get their cast offs and second best worn out items. And this is how they treat him. Like garbage. They were the ones who were garbage.

Roughly he massaged his shoulders and neck. He was going to show them he meant business. Unfortunately his schedule would prevent him from doing just that.

Lying back against the mattress, the figure intertwined his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

He wasn't worried; he had nothing but time.


	5. Chapter 5

_For anyone who may have thought I switched my attention from Morgan to Ro/P---no, that is just how I write. If you have read more than one story, you'll realise that I love to throw my readers for a loop every now and then--especially if the rest of the story is about to get intense. Also, for clarity, I am American, but I lived in Australia for a few years, so my spelling of certain words is a tribute to both my cultures. Please do **not** leave me a review to correct my spelling. Once again, I don't own Morgan or Criminal Minds. Why, oh why?_____________________________________________________________________________________

**Part of The Plan**

The peaceful quiet early suburban sunrise was interrupted by the loud diesel engine of the city waste management truck. Stopping at each house, two men jumped off the back bumper and collected the refuse and garbage from the curbside. As the truck approached the quaint house at the corner, the driver noticed that the garbage cans were not present and gunned the engine to pass it for the next yard.

Inside the house, Amy Churchill was sipping her coffee when she heard the engine. _Oh hell! Was it trash day already?_ Dropping her mug, she grabbed the bags from the kitchen floor and flew out the door to catch the truck.

"Stop!" she cried out. "Wait!"

As the truck braked at the next house, the two sanitation workers jumped off the bumper and turned around to see a slight woman dressed in a purple robe chasing after them--two Hefty bags swung from her hands.

Out of breath, Amy stopped beside the truck. "I am so sorry. I forgot it was trash day," she apologized. "It's not too late to drop these off, I hope."

The big burly worker quickly tipped his hard hat. "No ma'am. Let me take those for you."

"Thank you." She smiled warmly at him.

"Anytime." He smiled back and tossed the bags into the wide mouth.

On the other side of the truck a slight man threw the garbage can into the back of the truck and tossed it on to the curb. Glancing over, he saw Amy. Pausing for a moment, he scanned her over. Vulagarly he licked his lips--liking what he saw. He definitely liked what he saw.

Amy felt the guy's intense stare, and nervously she drew her robe closed. Looking up, she caught his eyes and a cold chill went down her spine. Unable to move, her instincts told her that something was unquestionably out of place with the guy but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Hey Mac, you gonna stand there all day, or are you going to lend me a hand to get this desk?" the burly worker grumbled.

Breaking his gaze, Mac went over to help his partner. Together they struggled to get the desk in the back. Hitting the lever, they waited for the compactor to do its job. Turning to look at the woman again, he noticed that she had left to head back to her house. Discreetly, he waited to see which door she entered.

"Day-dreaming again?"

"What you think I couldn't hit something like that?" Mac replied over the sound of the cracking press board being disintegrated by the heavy hydraulic boom.

"That woman is way out of your league. Besides, women like her don't get excited for trash men."

"Sanitation workers," Mac replied huffily and lifted his hard hat to wipe at his brow. The sunlight reflected off his clean shaven head.

"The PC term might be 'sanitation worker' but the cold hard truth is that we are trash men. And that woman is high class."

"I didn't see a ring. I could have a chance."

The burly guy snorted. "Yeah, and I might crap out a Leprechaun who will show me where he hid his pot o' gold." The hydraulic moved back into place. Whistling to the driver to continue, he jumped up and grabbed the handle.

Mac took a moment to throw another look at Amy's house.

"Hey, Mac! Get your head out of your ass and get with the program! The trash ain't gonna wait all day!"

Running to catch up, Mac forgot about the beautiful woman in the purple robe and helped his partner.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________

Garcia was in her office furiously typing information into the ViCAP, NCIC, and NCJRS data systems. Somewhere, somehow there had to be some information about the UNSUB. It was very rare that he just decided to snap one day and start killing. She would bet good money that he was a pro at this type of degradation. He had done it before, but where and when was the question. No person was a born misogynist; it was a learned behaviour. And it had been festering for quite some time.

Entering the data in, she couldn't help but ponder how it had been nearly five days since Carol Hawn had been attacked. Since that night, it had been pretty quiet---other than the deliberate copy cat murder of Emerson Waverly. Garcia couldn't take all the credit for being able to hack into the court records and discover the numerous restraining orders and complaints filed against the ex-boyfriend who was now an alleged murderer. Rossi's sharp eye had seen the slight bruise under the blood and had had the forethought to notify Hotch and her to get all they could on Emerson Waverly.

Now, at least one murderer was sitting in jail awaiting his trial and fate. Unfortunately there was another wandering around DC wreaking hate and discontent in a way that even Garcia couldn't fathom. Even though she didn't believe in guns, she had no objections when Kevin brought home a police issue stun gun. Out of respect for her, he kept it in the drawer in the nightstand beside his side of the bed, but she still had a hard time falling asleep.

That first night she'd tossed and turned as her brain replayed _her_ own attack. Claustrophobic from fear and anxiety, Garcia had slipped out of bed and paced the living room floor. Her ears picked up on every sound from the hall and street down below. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she couldn't help but think of those two women who had been brutally attacked---and in their own homes of all places!

She had been attacked at her home, too. Garcia felt the tears run down her cheeks as she tried to comprehend the senseless maliciousness of the whole thing. Not for the first time did she wonder why she survived virtually unscathed---sans the scar on her chest as a grim reminder of how lucky she really was--and those poor women were brutalized beyond all comprehension. One was dead and the other would live but never speak again---nor would she ever have children.

Kevin had heard her sobs and came in to hold her as she let it all out. Realising that words would be useless, he just held her while she cried. Now that her tears were drained, Garcia decided to focus her attention and energy to making sure no other woman became this sick, demented bastard's next victim. Entering the data, she hit the return key and waited.

The door opened and the hair on the back of her neck rose slightly.

"Hey baby girl," Morgan greeted and leaned in to give her cheek a quick peck.

"Well, if it isn't the gorgeous chocolate thunder god."

"Any good news?"

Garcia gave him a half-smile. "Been searching all the data bases and so far nothing has even red-flagged to indicate that this guy has done this before."

"I have this feeling that he's got a pattern somewhere before DC."

"Ah, Derek Morgan's police gut is kicking in."

"I kind of wish it wasn't. Amy complained that I kept her up the night before. I can't help it."

"Well, they say 'Once a cop, always a cop'," Garcia offered and spun her chair around to look at Morgan. Taking in his crisp dress shirt, tie, and dark slacks, her heart constricted. She loved him so much, and wondered--not for the first time--if it was her enormous amount of love which kept her from pursuing him in a romantic or even physical way.

Reaching over, she tugged on Morgan's tie. "I would have never guessed to put you in a purple tie. Amy's doing?"

"She likes purple."

"It looks good on you. She's good for you Derek."

Morgan sat on the corner of the desk and took Garcia's hands in his. "Really? No hard feelings?"

Garcia scoffed gently. "Honestly? I'm so happy for you that I could do a cart-wheel in the bull-pen."

"Please don't."

"It wouldn't be the first time I had that desire, but since you requested, I will hold off. So, what is she like?"

"Amy?" Morgan asked. Garcia nodded. "She's beautiful and smart and can put up with me. She speaks 3 languages fluently---including English."

"That's a plus for any woman."

"She's from Peoria and joined the FBI five years ago."

"How did you meet?"

"You mean: how did she catch me?"

"Exactly!"

"We had a fender bender in the parking lot."

"That was her?" Her tone was of surprise. He nodded. "But Derek, that's been over a year and a half! You mean to tell me that you two have been seeing each other this whole time and never said anything?" Garcia tried to keep the hurt out of her voice, but was unsuccessful.

Morgan reached over and brushed a lock of hair from Garcia's eyes. "Baby girl, I am so sorry to hurt you that way." She turned her head away; she didn't want him to see the tears in her eyes. It broke her heart to think that he didn't value their friendship enough to confide about Amy. Morgan put two fingers under her chin and tried to turn her head to face him. Stubbornly she resisted.

"Garcia, look at me." She shook her head. "Penelope! Look at me!" Morgan ordered sternly. Keeping her eyes downcast, she complied. "I never meant to keep her as a secret. We were going to let everyone know but then The Reaper struck. I felt that it was safer if no one knew that I had a relationship going on. When Haley was murdered, it tore me up to see the hell that Hotch was going thru." He reached over and brushed a stray tear away with his thumb. "Amy and I broke up for a while after the funeral. I felt that we needed the time apart. Over the course of the year, we got back together. That long weekend we had off, I went with her to meet her parents. And I took her to meet my mother and sisters."

"Your family was good enough for her, but your BAU family wasn't?" Garcia's voice shaked with unshed tears and hurt.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to wait to see if she was 'the one' before I introduced her to the people I really care about. I figured when I was ready to make the big step to let her meet you guys, then I was ready to pop the question."

Garcia drew her eyebrows in confusion. For a moment her brain tried to make sense of Morgan's words. As the realisation dawned on her, her face brightened. "Pop the question? You mean….?"

"I know that I don't really need to ask your permission---since you already have Kevin, but you are like my sister and I wouldn't feel right without running it by you first."

"Derek! Oh my gosh! You're really sure about this?" she asked and he nodded affirmatively. "Well, then of course I give you my blessing." She jumped from her chair and drew him into a tight bear hug. "She's is the luckiest woman on earth!"

Morgan pulled back and looked at his best friend. "You are okay with this?"

"Derek, I am more than okay with this! If you are happy, that's all that matters." She straightened his tie. "So, when do I get to meet her?"

"Tonight. I wanted the whole team there when I propose."

Garcia felt herself swoon with excitement and happiness. Sitting down, she took a moment to get her equilibrium back on track. "This is the second greatest news I've gotten today."

"What's the greatest?" Morgan inquired and sat back down on the desk corner.

"That you were right about Prentiss and Rossi."

His eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"

"Oh yeah! And then some. They've been seeing each other since that trip to LA."

Morgan threw his head back and laughed out loud. "Man, were my instincts ever on for that one."

"I never doubted your gut." Just then a loud "ping" came over the computer. Garcia turned to click on the flashing sign. It only took a second for the words to make sense. "Oh my god!" she muttered and began furiously typing.

Standing up, Morgan came over and leaned in for a closer look. "What's up?"

Without breaking concentration, Garcia answered: "I've been searching all the criminal databases all over the country in hopes that this guys has struck before. Not that that would be a good thing, but I figured if he's done it once, he's done it before."

"I'm with you so far. So, what are the databases telling you?"

Fingers flying, Garcia could barely contain her excitement. "That the case has red-flagged ten other cold cases in Pennsylvania, Illinois, Colorado, Florida and Canada."

"You mean he's done this before?"

"The DNA is a match. The crime scenes are identical. The MO is exact. This guy is a pro."

"So you broke the case?"

"I wouldn't say 'broke the case', but I sure hit the mother load."

Morgan turned her around and placed a quick hard kiss on Garcia's lips. "Baby girl, you are the best! I'll tell Hotch we got a break thru." Running out of the room, he closed the door behind him.

Garcia bit her lip and blinked her eyes quickly to hold back the tears. "Bye my hunka hunk o' chocolate love." Turning back to the computer screen she swiftly gathered the information to send to JJ and Hotch's computers.


	6. Chapter 6

_Don't ask me where that conversation between Morgan and Garcia came from. I put my fingers on the keys and let them write the story. I can honestly say my subconscious mind wrote that last chapter. I think I am trying to establish camaraderie and friendship between the characters before life and fate delivers the ultimate slap down. I don't mean for this story to be so dark and painful but to be honest life can and does change on a dime and sometimes we need to be vigilant and never hesitate to tell the ones we love what they mean to us. I don't own Criminal Minds._

**Part of The Plan**

Rolling over on his back, Derek tried to catch his breath. Snuggling up beside him, Amy rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes as she listened to his heartbeat. The night had been one surprise after another. First the BAU team was at the restaurant, and then Derek got down on one knee and proposed. Not only had his proposal caught her off guard but he presented her with an Amethyst surrounded by tiny Garnets-her birthstone.

Once back at her place, he had spent the better part of the evening worshipping her body in ways she never could have imagined. Thoroughly spent from sweet, slow, and sensual love-making, and more in love than she ever thought possible, Amy sighed deeply and placed a kiss on Derek's bare chest. Only heavy breathing and the sound of the air conditioner filled the room.

Light from the corner street lamp peeked in thru the curtains and Amy raised her hand to catch a glimpse of her ring. She could never get enough of seeing the stones sparkling in the light. And she could never get enough of this wonderful man by her side.

Derek tried to get his thoughts together. He had read an article once that described how when everything was perfect and right during love-making, people had been known to have out of body experiences. He had dismissed that notion…until tonight.

Not only had the stars aligned with the planets, but for the first time in a long time, everything in his life was great. Scratch that-everything was perfect! He had the perfect job, perfect friends, and now the perfect fiancée. Could life get any better? Tightening his arm around his future bride, he relished in feeling her body meld against his. He could never get enough of loving Amy. It was official, if he had to choose a way to die, he hoped it was in her arms-of course he hoped that he was well into his nineties and had just had a week long love-making marathon with her when and if that moment should ever happen.

He felt her kiss on his skin and his fingers slipped thru her soft, silky hair. All his life he had dreamed of finding the right one; he had wanted what his parents had had…once. He wanted what Hotch had had. And what Rossi and Prentiss would have if they would stop being so proud and admit what everyone already knew.

And he wanted children. Ever since the moment he held baby Henry in the briefing room, he had felt that longing. He knew he could be a good parent…maybe even a great parent. Now he was going to have his chance. He chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Amy asked.

"I was just thinking about me being a father."

She raised her head and looked at him. "Whoa mister! We just got engaged tonight; maybe we should wait and get married first before planning a family."

"Are you saying you don't want children?"

"No…I'm saying that we need to do this the right way. As much as my father adores you, and no matter your intentions-even the ring won't save you from being shot if you manage to impregnate me before the wedding."

"Then let's elope."

"Derek!"

"Honestly. We can drive to Maryland and get it done. And then we can start on our family."

"What about the wedding? What about your family and mine?"

"What about them? We can always have a wedding at a later date. I have waited so long for you; I don't think I can wait another minute."

"Are you serious?" Amy sniffled.

"Very. I want to wake up every morning with you beside me, and I want to see your body swell with our child. Of course I want our first child to be a girl."

"Oh really?"

"And the one after that, and the one after that, too."

"How many girls are you planning on us having?"

"Lots. If they are anything like you and their grandmothers they are going to be the most blessed little girls on the planet."

"What about boys? Don't you want a son?"

"Oh heaven's no!" Morgan chortled. "Could you see a Derek Morgan mini-me running around this world?"

"If he's anything like his dad, he's going to be awesome."

Derek sighed. "I guess we can try for one boy," he agreed reluctantly.

Leaning over, Amy whispered in his ear: "我将永远爱你。我爱你的定论。"

"And that means?"

"Okay how about: حبي هو الآخرة. Is that better?"

"I see you had your first lesson with Prentiss," Morgan remarked. "I told her not to teach you bad words."

"Wouldn't you like to know what I said?" she teased.

"Yes-for both of the gibberish you mumbled, but I have a feeling you aren't going to tell me."

"Actually, I would rather show you." Moving down his chest, Amy left a trail of kisses. Reaching his belly button, she dipped her tongue into the indentation and reveled at how his body tensed up when she blew on it. Slowly her hand trailed up his thigh as her lips moved lower. She heard him groan as her mouth took him in. Gently she used her tongue to caress him and bring him back to life. She marveled at his endurance and stamina.

Stroking with her tongue and fingertips, she teased and tormented him. Nipping lightly on his smooth satin like skin, she closed her eyes as his hands wove into her hair. Opening her mouth, she took him deeply into the dark, warm recess of her mouth.

Morgan could barely think as every touch from Amy's hands and mouth sent another sharp current thru his body and caused his mind to short-circuit. He wasn't sure where she had learned that one move, but when her fingers had trailed down and found that secret sensitive spot, he had nearly exploded. Subconsciously, he wove his fingers thru her hair and tried to hold on for dear life as she consumed him. Each tortuous delicious movement of her body against his was one step closer to pushing him over the edge of no return.

"Oh to hell with it!" he groaned and hauled her up. Pressing a long deep kiss against her lips, he hungrily tried to find a way to get closer to her. Love-making was never going to ease that ache to fill her, consume her, to be one with her. His tongue mated with hers and he tasted himself and felt his body harden with desire and love.

Pulling her over him, their eyes met and although no words were spoken, she knew what he wanted. Lifting her hips, she settled ever slowly down and became one with him. Intertwining their fingers, she set the pace and teased him to follow. She was in charge and dared him to challenge her. But he only closed his eyes and lay back to let her do what she would to his body. There would be so many more chances to render her helpless as he ravished her body.

Achingly slow, and with deliberate actions, she used her body to elicit responses from him he never thought possible. _This is what sweet torment must be like,_ he wondered and tried to keep up with her. Groaning, he gave up and totally surrendered himself, body and soul, over to her.

Ever so slowly he felt himself approach the edge of no return. The more he tried to fight it, to make the moment last longer, the more determined she was to take him there. He felt his body tense and bright bursts of light flashed behind his eyelids as he felt his body give in and together they fell over the cliff of ecstasy.

Over and over he felt his body convulse as it found release. And just as quickly as it began, it was over…leaving his body spent, exhausted, and thoroughly satisfied. He felt wetness on his cheeks and realised he was crying. Soft as a butterfly kiss, he felt her lips kiss away each tear. Then she lifted his hand and kissed each of his fingertips.

Drawing his arms around her tightly, he pulled her against him. Closing his eyes, he sighed from contentment and love. God, how he loved her.

She could swear her body was humming. Never had she ever felt the way she was feeling at this moment. Closing her eyes, she laid her head on his chest and sighed. God, how she loved him.

Spent and sated, they fell asleep in the perfect lover's embrace, cloaked in the after glow of perfect love-making.


	7. Chapter 7

_I hope you all liked the last chapter. Sorry if I didn't go into detail, but I am a 'less is more' kind of writer. I believe in giving the reader just enough information and let their imagination fill in the gaps with how they believe the scene should be. Well, the killer has struck again. And fate is readying its hand. I don't own Criminal Minds---this is hard enough to write without having to see the characters act it out._

_Oh, and for the record, Prentiss is **NOT** pregnant! The crime scene is really that brutal! _

**Part of The Plan**

A phone was ringing somewhere. Derek struggled back to consciousness and realised that it was his phone making that incessant, irritating noise. Trying not to disturb Amy, he grabbed it and hit talk.

"Morgan here," he answered his voice thick with sleep.

"Morgan, I hate to bother you," Hotch apologized. "He struck again."

Suddenly on high alert, Derek came fully awake. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "When? Where?"

"About three hours ago." Hotch rambled off an address. "I have Garcia sending the coordinates to your GPS."

"Thanks. Are the others on their way?" Derek tried to find his slacks. Pulling them up, he slipped his feet into his shoes.

"They've been notified."

Checking his watch against the dim street light, checked the time. "It's 0535; I'll be there as fast as I can."

"Drive safely." Hotch ordered and disconnected the call. Morgan did the same. Shoving the phone in his front pants pockets, he tried to locate his shirt. Donning it, he quickly fastened the buttons. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he leaned over the bed and kissed Amy.

"Derek, what's wrong?" she asked groggily and turned over.

"That was Hotch; there's been another attack. I have to go."

"Okay."

"You're not upset?"

"No. You're an FBI agent; this is your job. Drive safely."

Morgan kissed her deeply. His kiss held the promise of what he intended to do when he got back. Breaking away, he scanned the room. Straightening up, he moved over to the windows and checked the locks. Breathing a sigh of relief, he looked at Amy.

"Don't open the door for anyone, you hear me? I will call you when I get back."

"Yes," she slurred, half-asleep.

"I will call you later to check on you."

"I love you," Amy replied.

"I love you, too," he responded. One more kiss and he left her to sleep. Making his way to the living room, he disarmed the alarm system. Opening the door, he reset the system, and then closed the door.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________

Pulling up to the curb, Morgan could see the flashing lights of the patrol cars and ambulance. Throwing the car in park, he turned off the engine and rushed over to his co-workers.

"Sorry to pull you guys out of bed," Hotch apologized. "This is a bad one."

"I take it by 'bad one' she didn't make it?" Morgan asked.

Hotch shook his head. "No. I'm afraid not."

Donning latex gloves, the team made their way inside the house. Looking around, they noticed how nothing seemed out of place in the main rooms. Wordlessly, they made their way to the bedroom. With all the years of crime scenes under their belts, nothing prepared them for the scene in front of their eyes. Nor were they prepared for the stench.

Looking at the blood soaked bed and the lifeless, mutilated figure lying on the mattress, Prentiss felt her dinner roil and pressed her fist against her mouth. Rossi glanced at her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Swallowing hard, she nodded. "Yeah. I wasn't prepared for this." Deep breath. "How did he get in?"

"Police say that he busted out a bathroom window and crawled in. This time he used a butcher knife."

"Was there any rape?" Rossi asked.

"Police say that they were unable to determine it for a fact. Regardless, he thoroughly brutalized her that it's possible that she was unconscious or already dead when he started stabbing her. He slashed her so hard that he nearly severed her head."

"He what?" JJ stammered. She couldn't look at the dead woman. Who could have that much hatred for a woman they didn't even know?

"That's not all. He left a message on the bathroom mirror." Quick and with purpose, the team made their way into the adjoining half bath. Switching on the light, they all took in the words printed in red blood: **_NO COPY CAT!_**

Rossi felt his blood boil. "Who the hell is the guy and what the hell kind of game is he playing?"

"That is a great question Dave. No one saw anything. No one was lurking. No soliciting knocks on the doors of neighbours. It was almost as though he was anticipating us finding this and letting us know that he knows we are looking for him."

"I'm sick and tired of his games!" Rossi replied, his tone full of frustration. "I want to get my hands on whoever at the police station released that calling card evidence. So help me God, I…" He stopped before he said too much.

"Hotch, if it's alright, I am going to step outside for some fresh air," Prentiss begged.

"Go ahead. JJ, you can go if you want." Together the women left, each leaning on the other. The others stood around and analysed the nightmare in front of them.

"Garcia find any link between the crimes yet?" Morgan inquired,

"The best she could come up with is they all happened on Saturdays and Wednesdays."

Reid cocked his head in thought. "That's weird. I can see the weekend because most people get those days off. But not many people get Wednesdays off."

"And all the crimes happened within a ten mile radius."

"That doesn't give us enough information to even try to determine where he will strike again." It didn't go unnoticed that Rossi had said "where" and not "if". They all knew the UNSUB would strike again.

"I just can't believe no one really heard anything," Morgan observed.

"Late at night, windows closed, the bedroom on the far end of the house….it's not unfathomable that no one would hear a thing."

"The night of the Tate murders, five people were shot, bludgeoned, stabbed, and hung and no one---not even the care taker located 30 feet or so from the main house---heard a thing. Ironically a house one mile down the canyon heard gunshots and someone cry out _'No!'_," Reid commented. "But other than that, the neighbours stated that they heard nothing amiss that night."

Morgan went to speak when JJ ducked her head inside. "Guys, Prentiss just got really ill. I'm going to take her back to the BAU." She cast a glance at Rossi and tried to judge his reaction. Stone-faced, his features clear of any emotion, he didn't give anything away.

Hotch looked at the team. "You are looking a little pale yourself, JJ. You sure you don't want one of us to drive you both back?"

"I'll be okay. Besides, who would drive my car back to the office?"

"Point made and taken. Tell Prentiss we will make arrangements to get her car back to the BAU office."

"Okay. See you guys there." JJ nodded and left.

Pulling off his gloves, Hotch looked at the remainder of the team. "Let's head back to headquarters. Maybe we can get a better idea on this guy."

Morgan and Reid left. Rossi started to follow. "Dave," Hotch called.

"Yes?"

"Prentiss didn't bring her car, did she?"

Leveling a steel gaze at the unit chief, Rossi squared his shoulders. "No, she didn't."

"Do I want to know why? Is there something you need or rather should tell me?"

"She's not pregnant, if that is what you are asking."

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind, but thanks for that information. I won't ask how you know, but I guess that answers my question."

"Good, because I wasn't going to go into further detail."

"I take it you are….guarding her?"

"Call it my gut working over time. She is the only female on the team without a significant other. I can't let her be alone. And for the record, I have been sleeping on the couch."

"Good. I'm not exactly thrilled with your revelation, but I accept your explanation."

"I'm glad we could come to this understanding."

"Me too."

Together the men left the room.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________

Saturday morning dawned bright and intense thru the windows of the BAU headquarters. Numerous hours of intense scrutiny and four pots of coffee and a tray of pastries later, and the team was still no closer to unmasking their UNSUB or even determining his next move. The best they could come up with was the map Garcia made to highlight the areas where he had struck. Still nothing stood out. Calling a break, Hotch ordered the team to take a couple hours to rest up before tackling the information for the umpteenth time.

JJ called dibbs on the couch in Morgan's office. And there was no question which couch Prentiss would be taking. Impossible to read at the crime scene, Rossi was an open book by the time they got back to headquarters. Somehow he had scrounged up a packet of Saltines and a bottle of Sprite for Prentiss. Within the hour, she was nearly back to her old self…until the crime scene photos were taken out to be reviewed for any evidence missed.

Excusing herself, she rushed out of the room. And no one could blame her. Rossi asked JJ to look in on Prentiss, and then turned to Hotch and stated that he hoped that Garcia never saw the photos. Hotch nodded as did Morgan. Prentiss had a cast iron stomach, and if the photos could cause this kind of reaction, it was not unimaginable the reaction Garcia would have.

As everyone settled down, Morgan called Amy.

"Everything alright there?" he asked.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, if that is what you are asking."

"How did you sleep?"

"Probably better than you did."

"I'm sorry about that," Morgan apologized. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"That's okay. I don't mind getting woken up to kiss you good-bye. Hopefully in the future it will be to send you off to work and not because you are rushing out the door at five am."

"I'm BAU mon coeur; it comes with the territory."

Amy sighed. "I know. At least I know what you do, so that makes it easier to deal with; especially when you pepper your excuses with French."

"I know it turns you on," Morgan's voice was low and smooth.

"Be careful starting something that you won't be able to rectify until you get home."

"I'll be home soon."

"I won't hold my breath."

"Do you have to go out anywhere today?"

"No where I can think of; if I do, I'll call you. How's everyone doing?" Amy inquired.

"Prentiss and JJ got ill at the crime scene."

"Oh my god! That bad?"

"Pretty gruesome is all I will say."

"Agent Rossi is taking care of Emily, I presume."

Morgan was stunned speechless. "What makes you say that?"

Amy laughed. "C'mon Derek. You mean to tell me that you haven't seen it?"

"Uh…well…I mean…"

"Great profilers make crummy liars. I saw the way they looked at each other last night. I also noticed the way his arm went behind her. It doesn't take a good profiler to realise that he was staking his claim."

"Oh?" Morgan became conscious that it was safer to play dumb at this point.

"He was looking at her the way I've caught you looking at me. I'm not dumb, Derek. Those two got it bad."

"Yeah, well, try to tell them that; they are still in denial."

"I'm putting money on Rossi waking up first. I can almost guarantee a couple of buildings burning down when they finally do the horizontal mambo."

Morgan grimaced. "That was a mental vision I could have gone my life whole life without."

Amy laughed out loud. "Well, put us in their place and hurry home."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"When I get home I'll make love to you while speaking French," Morgan promised in a low tone.

"Now that is a lot of love. Talk to you later."

"Adieu mon coeur." Then Morgan hit the end button. Flipping the phone closed, he stretched and headed toward his office. At that moment, even the floor looked inviting.  
________________________________________________________________________________________

Amy turned off the living room lamp and stood up for a long stretch. Looking at the clock, the time read a quarter past midnight. Usually she didn't turn in so late, but she stayed up to talk to Derek and then make a couple of phone calls to their parents to tell them the good news. It was agreed that the next break Derek had, they would head home to spend time with the family. Amy wisely kept the news of a possible elopement to herself. There was no way her father would understand.

Tucking the book under her arm, she decided to finish it in bed. Since tomorrow was Sunday, she could sleep in. Besides, she could never just start to read a Vince Flynn novel and expect to put it down.

Making her way down the hall, she cursed herself for leaving her glasses on the coffee table. Turning around, she made her way back to the living room. Blindly she felt around until she found the wire frame. Slipping them on, she straightened up. Suddenly the hair on the back of her neck went up.

"Derek?" she spoke out loud, her voice trembled with fear. Her body, trained by the FBI, went into full alert.

Before she could say anything, a warm hand covered her mouth. Immediately her senses were assaulted by a putrid odor that nearly had her gagging. She felt the intruder try to pull her down the hall.

And that is when all hell broke loose.


	8. Chapter 8

_I didn't mean to leave that last chapter as a cliff-hanger---and as much as this story is beating my brain to get out, it's difficult to write a cohesive sentence…much less think of one at 1AM! I am sorry that the crime scene affected people the way it did. I wasn't trying to go for shock value---I was just writing it the way I saw it in my mind. As I mentioned before, life can change on a dime--or even faster. Our agents finally found the link but unfortunately it's too late. I don't own Criminal Minds.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________

**Part of The Plan**

Peter Fletcher never knew what it was that drew his attention to his neighbour's house. He had only come out to get the Sunday paper when he felt a chill go down his spine. He had heard the dog next door howling and whining during the wee hours and it had taken everything he had not to shoot the damn thing.

He was amazed how his wife could sleep thru anything---tornados, fire alarms, even labour pains. How he envied her. Frustrated, and unable to put his finger on what was bothering him, he got up and made a pot of coffee and decided to read the paper. He was a little curious to see how his team had fared during last night's championship game. Too late to watch it on TV, he had decided to read about it.

Sipping his coffee, Peter picked up the paper and started back inside. Then he stopped. Something was amiss. Bewildered, he walked across the lawn that separated his house from Amy Churchill's. Usually she was up early to get her paper and always had kind word to say to him. Nearly two years of living next door, Peter and his wife just adored their bubbly sprite of a neighbour and that young man she had been seeing recently. He was surprised to find out they were both FBI agents. Outwardly nothing would have given it away, and he figured that was why they were damn good at their jobs. He had seen the awards on Amy's wall and of course, everyone knew who Derek Morgan was.

The dog on the other side of his house was still howling. Earlier, Peter had found the sound irritating, but now it seemed forlorn and lost. Tip-toeing up the walk, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as chills rushed over his skin.

As Peter stepped on the porch he noticed the front door was open. Tucking the paper under his arm, he approached the entrance.

"Hello? Amy? It's Peter from next door?" The closer he got, the more his nerves went on high alert.

Moving inside, his mind tried to comprehend the scene: overturned furniture, broken lamps, books and magazines strewn across the carpet. Approaching closer, his foot stepped on something and he heard a crack. Bending over, he discovered it was a pair of glasses.

"What the hell?" he muttered. Adjusting his eyes to the room's lack of light, he noticed what appeared to be spots on the white wall. Was that blood?

A sound--a cross between a moan, groan, and sob--caught his ear. Looking around, he noticed what seemed to be a huge purple towel on the floor. It took a moment to comprehend that it was his neighbour. Dropping his coffee cup and paper, he rushed over to the prone figure.

"Amy? Oh my god!" Turning her over, he checked her breathing. Oh god, was that rattling he heard in her throat? Was she trying to say something? Leaning in, he tried to make out her words but couldn't decipher what she was trying to say.

Standing up he ran to the phone and found it ripped from the wall. He needed to get help. Running outside, he started shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Help! Someone help! Call 9-1-1! I need help! Call the police!"  
_______________________________________________________________________________________

Morgan stood up and stretched. Good lord he needed coffee! He had not gotten any sleep and blamed it on the rock hard floor covered with cheap carpet. What he'd give for a shower and fresh clothes.

Stepping out of the office, he made his way down the stairs to the bull pen and proceeded to make a fresh pot of coffee. While he watched it brew, he looked over at the desks; he saw Reid was focused on the papers on his desk.

"Hey Reid, want a cup of coffee?"

"Sure," Reid distantly replied.

Pouring two mugs, Morgan walked over to his co-worker. "Find anything interesting?"

"It's almost like a puzzle and I can't seem to find that elusive piece to put it all together."

Slapping him on the back, Morgan grinned. "If anyone can do it, I know you will." Slowly but surely the team started to filter into the main room. Glancing at his bedraggled co-workers, he knew how they felt. He wasn't sure what time they had all decided to call it a night, but he knew that it was too late to call Amy and tell her that he wasn't going to make it home.

"Is that coffee I smell?" JJ asked and grabbed her mug.

"Just made some."

"You are a saint."

"I'll remind you of that the next time I manage to piss you off."

Unable to think of anything to say, the team stood around and sipped their coffee. Suddenly Reid jumped up. Rushing over to the team, he could barely contain himself.

"Hey guys, I think I figured it out. All the attacks have happened within a ten mile radius. And the reason we can't figure this guy's next move is because we've been focusing on the radius and not the location where the attacks are happening."

"I don't follow you," Morgan answered. What had he put in Reid's cup because he needed a couple doses of that stuff.

Reid hurried into the briefing room. Bewildered, the rest of the team followed him. Excitedly he taped the street maps on the white board.

"Okay, you see the ten mile radius Garcia figured? Okay. Now look at the streets and how they correspond with one another."

A long moment of silence fell over the room. Then it dawned on them. Rossi was the first to speak. "Farragut, Madison and Sweetbriar are all off of South chase. It's as though he's hitting every other road."

"All of the attacks happened in cul de sacs," JJ observed.

"How many cul de sacs are there in the area?" Hotch asked.

"Twelve," Reid supplied.

"We almost got this bastard," Rossi bit out. "Now we have to figure out which one is next on his list."

"Reid, did you get with Garcia and try to narrow down those days?"

"Postal Workers, city employees, and UPS workers are the only ones with those kinds of schedules."

Hotch nodded. "Okay. Now we just--"

A knock on the door interrupted him. He turned to see Garcia in the doorway. Taking in her pale, grief stricken features, he rushed over to her side.

"Garcia, what's wrong?"

"There's been another attack," she whispered.

"Where?" Reid moved over to the board.

"Windsor Crest."

Scanning the map, Reid marked it. "That's about three blocks from the last attack."

Biting her lip, Garcia tried to maintain composure but she felt herself losing it. _Oh God! Why did she have to be the one to deliver this news?_

"The address is: 2564 Windsor Crest."

Morgan's head snapped up. "What was that address?"

Taking a shaky breath, Garcia met his eyes. "2564 Windsor Crest."

Morgan felt the room suddenly spin. Grabbing the edge of the table, he tried to catch his breath. Rossi rushed over to him.

"Derek, what's wrong?" he asked. Morgan could only look at him, speechless. His brain tried to find the words, but couldn't.

"Agent Amy Churchill lives there," Garcia supplied in a small whisper.

It only took a second for the agents to connect the name. Hotch grabbed his phone and started dialing. "I'm calling Strauss. Dave, go with Morgan. I'll be right behind you. Reid, Prentiss…go to the scene and see what you can find out. JJ, stay here with Garcia."

He barely noticed the team run out of the room as he connected with Director Strauss.

"Director Strauss? Aaron Hotchner…we just got word of another attack. The victim's name is Amy Churchill. Special Agent Amy Churchill…yes ma'am, I will have that report on your desk the moment you arrive."

Clicking the phone off, he rushed to his office to scan thru his rolodex for Agent Churchill's supervisor's cell number. He couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. _There was no way this could be happening again._

Dialing, he waited to be connected.  
________________________________________________________________________________________

Running down the hallway of Walter Reed Hospital, Morgan frantically looked around for someone---anyone to help him. For the first time in his life, Derek Morgan felt completely and utterly helpless.

Taking charge, Rossi grabbed a passing doctor. Flashing his credentials, he introduced himself. "Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi. We were told FBI Agent Amy Churchill was brought in via life flight over an hour ago. We need to see her."

"I'll make a call." Stepping aside, he dialed the phone on the wall. "Agent Rossi, she was taken to the ICU. Down that hall, make a left to the first elevator. Get off on the second floor; make a right and the nurse at the desk will help you."

"Thank you doctor." Turning his attention to his partner he tried to read his expression. "Come on Derek. I'm not going to leave you. I'll be here."

Together they made their way down the hall.


	9. Chapter 9

_For those of you wondering what Amy told Morgan, the layman's translation is: **I love you **_and_** my love is for eternity**. One silly mistake on Amy's part could have made the difference of the UNSUB being caught-or not. Derek blames himself, Rossi proves himself to be a true friend, the trap is set, and Director Strauss does something truly out of character! This chapter was difficult to write. Please be kind. I don't own Criminal Minds.  
__

**Part of The Plan**

Prentiss and Reid carefully ducked under the police tape that roped off Amy's house. Flashing their credentials, the officer on the scene waved them on. Glancing around, Prentiss picked out the officer closest to the front door and approached him.

"Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss," she introduced herself. "This is Doctor Spencer Reid."

"Agent Prentiss. Doctor Reid," the officer acknowledged. "Detective Thompson."

"We were informed that there was an attack here last night."

"Yes ma'am, but I don't know how this is a federal case."

"The woman is an FBI agent."

Detective Thompson looked contrite. "I am sorry to hear that."

"What do you know about what happened?"

Flipping his notes open, Detective Thompson scanned them. "It appears the assailant entered thru a broken basement window. From what we gather, he took her by surprise in the living room."

Prentiss looked surprised. "She wasn't in the bedroom?"

"No ma'am. Evidence suggests that he tried to drag her down the hall, but she put up one helluva fight. It's for sure she gave back as good as she got." Closing his notepad, he motioned for them to follow. Stepping inside the main room, Prentiss and Reid took in the destruction.

"Was she stabbed or…" Prentiss trailed off, unable to say the word.

"She appeared to have had two stab wounds, but she was fully clothed when we found her. Actually, it was her neighbour who found her and notified emergency personnel."

"Could we talk to him please?" Reid requested.

"Sure." Walking outside, Detective Thompson scanned the crowd that had gathered at the curb. Looking at his notes, he called out: "Peter Fletcher?" A hand shot up. "If you'll come with me."

Approaching, Prentiss took in his grief-stricken look and it was all she could do not to let her heart go out to him.

"Peter Fletcher? I'm Special Agent Prentiss. Detective Thompson informed me that you were the one who found Amy Churchill."

"Yes, I did. I came out to get the paper and I saw her door was open. The dog next door had been whining and barking all night, and that made me think something was wrong. When I looked in, I saw her…I saw her lying there. I turned her over to see if she was alright. I didn't mean to ruin the crime scene."

"That's alright. What happened next?" Prentiss coached.

"I heard a rattle in her throat-like she was fighting for air. I checked her pulse. When I leaned over, I heard her say something but I couldn't make it out. She kept repeating it."

"Think hard. What was she saying?"

Peter closed his eyes and concentrated. "It sounded like-like…no, that can't be right."

"What?"

"Bold and trash were the only words I could make out."

Reid looked surprised. "Bold? Could she have been saying 'bald'?"

"That makes sense."

"You didn't see anyone run from the house?"

"No ma'am."

Prentiss made a couple of notes. "Earlier in the evening you didn't see anyone loitering around the neighbourhood?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. The dog next door is always barking, so I couldn't tell you if there was or wasn't. I wish I could be more help."

"You've been very helpful." Prentiss closed her notepad. "If we have any further questions, may we contact you?"

"Yes. I gave the police my number."

"Thank you Mister Fletcher." Prentiss and Reid turned to leave.

"Agent?" Peter called out.

Prentiss turned to face him. "Yes sir?"

"I'm sorry about what happened to Amy; she's a nice girl. She's lived next to us for the past couple of years...I can't believe this happened to her. How is her boy-friend?"

"He is at the hospital with her."

"Tell them that they are in our prayers."

Prentiss nodded. "I will do that. Thank you." Turning her back, she flipped open her phone. "Hotch? Prentiss. Reid and I are at the crime scene."

"What did you find out?" Hotch asked.

"She put up one helluva a fight. They never made it to the bedroom. It seems he attacked her in the living room and tried to drag her that way. The assault occurred in the main room. She wasn't…she was fully clothed."

"That is what Rossi reported. Who found her?"

"A neighbour -Peter Fletcher. He had stepped outside for his paper and that's when he discovered the crime scene. He said that Amy tried to say something: trash and either the word bold or bald."

"That doesn't make any sense. How did he get in?"

"Broken window in the basement."

"Anything else?"

"Whoever this guy was, he is hurting. Amy may not have given him a thorough ass kicking, but she hurt him."

"I will have Garcia notify emergency rooms to be on the look out for anyone looking like they've been in a recent fight."

Prentiss paused. "Hotch. Um…how is Morgan?"

"As well as can be expected. You and Reid head over to Walter Reed and I will meet you there."

"Yes sir." Closing the phone, Prentiss motioned to Reid. "Hotch wants us at the hospital."

Walking to the car, they both got in. Starting the engine, Prentiss pointed the car northward and gunned the engine.  
_

Morgan was still maintaining a vigil beside Amy's bedside while Rossi occupied the chair on the opposite side.

"Is it true what Hotch said? Did he get in thru the basement window?"

"It appears so," Rossi replied simply.

Drawing Amy's limp hand upward, he pressed it against his lips. _God, her skin was so cold_. He tried to stop the flow of tears, but was unable.

"This was my fault."

Rossi shook his head. "Derek, this was no one's fault. You had no way of knowing this was going to happen."

"I was supposed to fix the basement window. She'd been asking me for weeks, but something was always coming up."

"Did the house have an alarm system?"

"Yeah."

Rossi instinct went on full alert. It was going to be painful, but he had to ask. "The UNSUB went out the front door…why didn't the alarm go off?"

Morgan took a long breath in. "Because she probably forgot to set it. That was the one thing we always argued over. I was going to call her last night and remind her, then we got busy and I forgot." Morgan began sobbing uncontrollably. Rossi rushed over to hold him.

"Derek, it's okay. This was no one's fault. Neither you nor she did anything wrong." Morgan only sobbed harder. Rossi, at a loss for words, continued to comfort his partner.

Quietly the door opened. A nurse poked her head in. "Agent Rossi? I hate to bother you; Agent Hotchner needs to speak to you." She closed the door quietly.

"Derek, I'm going to step out for a moment. Okay?" Morgan nodded. "I'll be back. I'm just going to see what Hotch wants."

Stepping out in the hallway, Rossi closed the door and walked over to where Hotch, Prentiss and Reid stood.

"What's wrong?"

"How is Morgan holding up?" Hotch asked.

"Not good. The doctor said Amy took a serious beating. It's too soon to tell which direction the brain swelling will go."

"It's possible that she inflicted some serious injury on him too."

"What are you suggesting? That we go to the news with this?"

Hotch nodded. "Yes. Agent Churchill was trained in self-defence and if she was only stabbed twice and he didn't rape her, that means she took him down enough to make him want to get away. Somewhere out there is a guy walking around needing medical treatment. Someone has seen something."

"You talk to Strauss?"

"She's on board with the idea. Also, she has sent the jet to pick up Derek's mother and Agent Churchill's parents. They should be here later tonight."

"That will help Derek. If you don't need me, I'm going back in to be with him. He shouldn't be alone."

"Go ahead." He turned to face Prentiss and Reid. "Let's get back to headquarters and flush out this profile so JJ can do a press conference. We are going to catch this guy if it's the last thing I do."

They hurried to the elevator.  
_

"We believe the person responsible for the four attacks lives and works around the Arlington or DC area. He's a loner with anger management issues. He has an intense hatred of women. He's not afraid to brag to people that he can have any woman in the room, but he is still single. He works at a job that gives him Wednesdays and the weekend off. That is why we believe he attacks on Tuesday and Saturday nights. His job also enables him to case potential crime sites," JJ's voice rang out clear and precise. Taking a quick breath, she continued.

"During the attack he committed early this morning, the victim fought back. We believe that with her being trained in self defence she was able to inflict some serious injury on our perpetrator. We ask that anyone with any information about this crime or the other three, please contact the police or the FBI immediately. We have also notified all clinics and emergency rooms to report any one walking in off the street with severe cuts and bruises. It's also possible that he may have a fracture or two."

A reporter stood up. "Is it true that the latest victim was a FBI agent?"

"Yes."

"What is her condition?"

"I'm sorry, but I am not at liberty to answer that."

"What charges will be brought against him when he is caught?"

"That is between the District Attorney in Arlington and the District Attorney in DC."

"Will he be facing the death penalty?"

"Once again, I cannot answer that."

"Is it true that the latest victim identified her attacker?"

JJ paused. "Could you repeat that? I'm unclear on your definition of 'identified'."

"We received information from a confidential source that the victim uttered a couple of words that could identify her attacker."

JJ looked down at her notes and then cast a glance at Hotch. Arms crossed over his chest, he nodded his approval. Squaring her shoulders, JJ raised her chin and looked straight ahead. "I can confirm that the victim uttered the words: trash and bold or bald."

"Are you saying the person preying on and attacking women is bald?"

"Although it is a possibility, we can neither confirm nor deny that description." Gathering her notes, she backed away from the podium. "That is all we have to say for right now. If anything new comes to light, we will let you know. Thank you." Stepping down, she set a quick pace out of the room even though questions were still being shouted out.

Rounding the corner she sat down on the first available chair and let her breath out in one long stream. Leaning forward, she buried her face in her hands and tried to regain her composure. Footsteps in the hall made her straighten up.

Strauss, Hotch, and Prentiss entered the room.

"Very well done, Agent Jarreau," Director Strauss complimented.

"Thank you ma'am." JJ knew she had done well, but why were her knees knocking?

Crossing her arms defiantly over her breasts, Strauss cast a steel glance at Hotch. "Do you believe that your plan is going to work?"

"It wouldn't be the first time an anonymous source from the FBI leaked confidential information to the press."

"I would expect that from Agent Rossi; I thought you were better than that. But I want to catch this son of a bitch as badly you as you do. And if I have to lower myself and my agents to the level of David Rossi, then so be it. Of course, I would suggest you not make this a permanent habit."

Hotch tried to control the urge to smirk. "Yes Director."

"Agent Prentiss, please check on the ETA status for the Churchills and Mrs. Morgan, and bring that information to my office, please." With the air of a queen Director Strauss swept out of the room. Even though she was gone, a chill still permeated the room.

JJ was taken aback by the scene which had just played out in front of her. "Wow! I never thought I would see the day Director Strauss would give you and Rossi a compliment -backhanded as it was- in the same sentence."

"Any thing is possible."

"Including that tiny smile I saw tugging at the corner of your mouth?"

"It wasn't a smile; it was a smirk."

"So, do you think releasing that information is going to flush him out?"

Hotch sat down. "One thing I learned from Dave is you get to a point where you have to lay your cards on the table and call the UNSUB's bluff."

"Unfortunately, at this stage of the game he has nothing to lose."

"True. Which is why he is going to bet it all and show up to work and hope that no one notices his appearance."

"Now we sit and wait."

Hotch nodded. "That, unfortunately, is the hardest part of profiling." Standing up, he extended a hand to JJ. "I'll give you a ride to the hospital so we can check on the team."

JJ took his hand. "Sounds good."

Holding the door, Hotch watched her cross the threshold, then followed her and closed the door.


	10. Chapter 10

_No such thing as a perfect crime---only a perfect getaway. Well, the UNSUB messed up this time and now the four walls of justice are closing in: Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, and Morgan. It's still possible for him to elude our beloved profilers but alas, no one's luck is that good. I keep thinking about how Hotch reacted when he came face to face with The Reaper, and I wonder if Morgan--the hot head that he is--will turn around and walk away, or will he give in to emotion? Anyway, I don't own Criminal Minds._

_P.s. I want to apologise in advance for using the Lord's name in vain and a couple of others too. This is the most violent scene I have ever written. Please read with caution._

**Part of The Plan**

Mac Case sat up in bed and carefully swung his legs over the side. Goddamn his body hurt! Closing his eyes tightly, he took a moment to ward off the nausea which overwhelmed him every time he tried to take a deep breath.

The pain was incredible and he was pretty sure he had a couple of cracked---if not broken---ribs. He had been preying on women for so long that he never considered one going on the defence. But he never would have imagined anything that small could have so much fight. He had made a mistake trying to corner her in the hallway instead of waiting for her to make it to the bedroom.

That, of course, was her fault. If that damned bitch hadn't made him so fucking hot and hard, he wouldn't have tried to take her right on the spot! All he could imagine was burying himself so deep inside of her that his mind never entertained the fact that she would do everything to prevent it.

Gently he touched his nose as the memory of that night flooded back.

_He had been so busy trying to hold her down that he never saw her palm come up against his nose. The crack and intense pain was enough to divert his attention which gave her enough time to get back on her feet and deliver a roundhouse to his ribcage. That tiny little thing had had enough force to knock him off his feet and land on the coffee table. That must have been when he cracked his ribs._

_She was good, but he was stronger---and faster. She had tried to get away, but he grabbed her robe and delivered a back hand slap across her face. Landing hard on the floor, she had felt the wind being knocked from her._

_He threw himself on her and wrapped his hands around her throat. The more she fought against him, the harder his erection grew. He had never fucked a corpse, but there was a first time for everything. And for that punch to his nose, he was going to make sure that when she was found, an open casket funeral would be out of the question._

_Ever so slowly he could feel her energy dissipate as he tightened the pressure around her neck. But she still had a lot of fight left, and used it to bring her thumbs up to gouge his eyes. Yelping in pain, he blindly tried to reach for her, but she brought her knees up and delivered a kick to his midsection which caused him to fly backwards into the wingback chair._

_Unable to stop himself, he hit the chair and felt it tip back. Landing with a thud, he was momentarily stunned. By now he should have had her at his mercy. What the hell had gone wrong? Dazed, he tried to ignore the throb in his head and the fire in his chest. Hearing her gasp and sob for breath, he rolled over and tried to get to his feet._

_Light from the street lamp cast an eerie yellow glow in the room, but it also enabled him to see her try to crawl across the room to freedom. Letting out a primeval growl of frustration, he sprinted over to her and grabbed her around the waist. He was going to end it for good. Right now._

_Holding her in place with one arm, he used his free hand to pull her robe and gown up. The sight of her skin only made him more intent on possessing her. Releasing his fly, he tried to position himself when he felt her dispense a hard kick to his most sensitive area. Screaming out in pain, he released her and fell to the ground where he withered in pain so excruciating he thought his eyeballs were going to explode._

_Gasping for breath and barely able to stand he watched her try to make it to the front door. He wasn't going to let her get away that easy. Disregarding the burning pain in his crotch, he gave chase. Grabbing the belt around her waist, he pulled her back and delivered a series of slaps across her face._

_He watched her head loll limply as he took out his frustration and anger on her. He had never met her, but he hated her. He hated her prissy attitude, her air of superiority, and the way she had deliberately teased him as she walked away and sashayed her hips. She had purposely sent out an unconscious invite. Now she acted like she had nothing to do with purposely making crazy._

_She was like every woman he had ever met in his life: beautiful, sensual, oozing sex from every pore, sending out subconscious signals with their eyes and body---to tease that if they were treated right they would be more than willing to let a man get his dick wet. But once they were cornered and forced to put out, they went cold and tried to play innocent. Every fucking woman was the same: a cold, frigid, prick-teaser. And he had had enough of them. He was tired of begging just to get his rocks off, so now he took what he wanted when he wanted. And if they lost their lives in the process…well, at least it was one less bitch in the world to tease and torment men._

_He was past the point of wanting to fuck her---he wanted to kill her. In the middle of slapping her, she grabbed his hand, bit it, and then ran her fingernails down his face. Adrenaline rushed into his system and he threw her across the room. Her body hit the wall and landed on the floor with a dull thud. Extracting his switchblade from his back jeans pocket, he flipped it open._

_Bending over her, he delivered two knife blows and was about to run the blade across her throat when a bright light lit up the room. Headlights from a car stopped at the corner stop sign suddenly turned on its brights. Suddenly aware that he was standing in front of a bay window holding a lifeless form, he dropped the woman abruptly._

_The lights stayed for another moment, and then moved on. Unsure as to whether he had been made or not, he decided to book. Tucking his limp, painful penis back into his jeans, he pulled up the zipper, and closed the switchblade._

_One last look at the woman on the floor, he delivered two hard kicks: one to her rib cage and another to her head. Then he walked to the front door, opened it carefully to make sure the coast was clear; then he sprinted away._

Peering into the bathroom mirror, he took in the bruises, scratch marks, and black eye. There was no doubt that he was going to have to quit his job and go underground until the whole thing blew over. Unfortunately he was going to have to go into work and put in his notice. He wasn't sure how he was going to make up an excuse for his looks.

Then an idea dawned: everyone knew he was a hard-drinking, skirt chasing bastard---he could say that he picked up a woman he didn't know was married. It had happened once before; why couldn't it happen again?

But right now he needed rest. He would call in sick tomorrow and then put in his notice Tuesday.  
________________________________________________________________________________________

Floyd Israel was pissed off. Not only was it Monday, but Mac had not shown up for work. The drunk bastard had decided to call in sick and leave him with the whole damn route. It was for sure that it was hell trying to find good help these days.

Worthless little shit probably went out and got totally shit-faced and couldn't get out of bed. It wasn't the first time. But why on a Monday when the route was twice as long and twice as difficult? Oh, he would get his revenge---when Mac came back, he was taking the left side of the truck for the South Chase route.

Sipping his coffee, he flipped open the paper to the METRO section. His eyes were drawn to a picture of a beautiful woman. Frowning, he tried to figure out why she seemed so familiar. He read the article about her attack and how she was in guarded condition at a local hospital. Reading further, he discovered that she was an FBI agent. When his eyes made it to part that described how she had been attacked in her home in the South Chase development, it hit him how he knew her.

She was the pretty little thing he had helped with the trash a few days earlier. _Someone had attacked and tried to kill her? Who?_ When he got his hands on them, they were going to wish they had never been born. That son of a bitch was going to be begging for God's mercy when he was through.

The FBI was asking anyone for any information to contact them immediately. There was a reward of fifty thousand dollars. _Screw the money!_ His reward would be to send that bastard to hell. Although he had only met Amy Churchill a couple of times, he liked her. He liked her attitude and her beautiful smile.

He had seen the guy who lived with her a few times before. How was he doing? God knew that he wished he had the information to help the police.

Dressing in his coveralls, Floyd stopped. A memory of Mac making a vulgar gesture toward Amy crossed his mind. Was it any coincidence that Amy was brutally attacked and Mac called in sick? Never one to jump the gun, Floyd wanted to call the FBI, but what if he was wrong?

Well, Mac was off today, and the trash wasn't going to wait---especially now that he had to do the route alone. But tomorrow he was going to confront his co-worker. Regardless of Mac's answers, Floyd's gut told him that the two were linked.

But first he had to go to work.


	11. Chapter 11

_Sorry about the long dry-spell. Life has been hectic. But that is no excuse. So where are we? Poor Amy has been attacked and Derek blames himself. Strauss does have something that resembles a heart, and Floyd recognized something too important to ignore. Will it be what cracks the case? Will he confront this knowledge or take an alternate route? I'm getting chills just thinking about it. For the record, I don't own Criminal Minds._

**Part Of The Plan**

Derek Morgan was past the point of exhausted. He had been sitting beside Amy's hospital bed all night waiting and hoping for her to open her eyes. If love could will someone back to life, then she should be up and running around. Unfortunately, that was not the case at the moment.

The doctors had reported that the swelling in her brain was no worse, but it was no better either. And because surgery was out of the question at the moment, they had decided to put her in a drug-induced coma in the hope that it would retard the swelling. Now all they could do was cross their fingers.

Never one to rely on religion or prayer, Derek had long ago given up letting someone else take the reins. After witnessing his father's murder, then the bad things that happened to him, and all the crime he witnessed 7 days a week, he had decided to be the master of his universe. Faith was for people too afraid to make the necessary changes on their own.

And God…where was God when his father was gunned down? Or Elle was attacked? Where was God for all the children who were brutally and senselessly taken from this earth? Where was God when Amy needed Him the most?

Derek knew he shouldn't be questioning things that had no answer but wasn't it human nature to question things? Wasn't it logical to want a reason instead of accepting things on blind faith? It amazed him how Rossi could still attend church and keep his faith even though everyday life brought another tragedy. Actually, he was jealous how some people -Rossi, his mother, JJ…and Amy- could still believe that everything happened for a reason and it could all work out.

Holding fast to Amy's hand, Derek wanted to cast aside his doubt and believe. But the scars were too deep. Maybe he was cursed. It seemed logical since every time he got near someone or loved them they were taken away. Maybe he was destined to be alone.

Wiping away tears of self-pity, Derek watched his love, his heart, his life fighting for life and it dawned on him that should she make it, he was going to do the honorable thing and bow out of her life. She had done nothing wrong to deserve this…except fall in love with him. She deserved better in life. And anyone not named Derek Morgan would be better.

Softly the door opened and Rossi stepped inside. It didn't take a great profiler to see that Derek was close to the precipice of a complete breakdown.

"How is she?"

Not taking his eyes off of Amy's face, Derek replied: "The same."

"JJ got the word out yesterday." Never one for small talk, Rossi tried to make an effort to get to the source of what was happening in his friend and co-worker.

"I saw it. Do you think it's going to help us catch the guy doing this?" Morgan's tone was flat.

Rossi shoved his hands into his pants pocket. "I do. Strauss let Hotch make the anonymous call to the police and she authorized the use of the jet to pick up your families."

"I suppose I will have to send her a Christmas card this year."

Rossi shrugged. "I wouldn't go that far to say thanks, but you could always invite her to the wedding."

Derek looked up and then down and away. "If there is a wedding."

"I talked to the neuro-specialist and there is a good chance that she will come out of this without any problems."

"It's not that."

"You don't love her anymore?" Rossi raised an eyebrow.

"It's not that…" Derek tried to control the tears that flowed freely down his cheeks.

"You're blaming yourself for what happened." It was not a question. Rossi waited. Derek's silence spoke volumes. "Wow! That is one for the record books."

"What's that?"

"You managed to edge me out as the reigning anal-retentive bastard. And I don't like being edged out." Rossi moved around the side of the hospital bed.

"Look at her…I did this!" Derek's voice cracked with emotion.

"No you didn't! It was random Derek. The only person guilty for what happened was a psychotic bastard who hates life as much as he hates women. Don't let him claim another victim by making you take on his guilt. What you and Amy have is a one in a million. But if you sit here and say that Amy will be better off without you…and you truly believe it….then maybe you are right and Amy would be better off. But you realize that not only will that bastard win, but he will claim two more lives…even if we catch him and he never kills again?"

Rossi touched Derek's shoulder with gentle understanding. "You are tired and not thinking straight. Go get yourself a cup of coffee and something to eat. I will stay here with Amy."

"What if…" Derek was more afraid to say it than he was to think it.

"Put your phone on vibrate so if anything happens I can reach you. JJ mentioned that the plane will be in shortly, and you can't see Amy's family looking the way you do. Let someone help with the burden, okay?"

Derek dropped his shoulders in weariness and sadness. "Dave-I-"

"This is what friends do. Now leave before I call Strauss to bring a team down here and have you forcibly removed."

Derek tried to smile, but could only force a small twitch. Standing up, he stretched and ran a hand over his face. Leaning over, he kissed Amy's forehead.

"Thanks Dave."

Rossi sat down beside the bed. "Out!"

Derek moved to the door. "Coffee with creamer and sugar, right?"

Rossi didn't reply, but he did raise his eyebrow. Derek opened the door, stepped out, and closed it behind him.  
-

It was difficult not to notice the small army of people who had invaded the hospital floor. Along with Derek's mother and sister and Amy's parents, the BAU team, Amy's supervisor, and Director Strauss sat or stood in the waiting room as the doctors explained Amy's condition.

"The last CAT scan and MRI both revealed that some of the swelling had gone down so we're pretty confident that surgery will not be necessary." Amy and Derek's mothers cried silently at the good news. Relief was apparent on the faces of everyone in the room.

"When will she wake up?" Dean Churchill asked.

"Unfortunately, I cannot answer that. The drug-induced coma seems to be working…to wake her up right now could start the swelling again. It's best that we err on the side of caution. She did suffer a TBI -traumatic brain injury- and this is the easiest way to monitor her condition. We can't do anything that might injure her brain stem."

"What about the stab wounds?" Josephine Churchill inquired. "Is that going to affect her?"

"As far as stab wounds go, she was pretty lucky. One hit her lower lung lobe and the other missed her major organs. I can't see her having any serious side effects once she recovers and wakes up."

"But…"

"It still comes down to the brain swelling. I am not going to lie; we will continue to monitor and make sure that nothing goes wrong. But the brain is a very complex organ and I can't make any promises at this point." The doctor looked around. "If there is nothing else, I am going to leave you alone. If you have any further questions, feel free to page me." Standing up, the doctors left everyone not medical related to their thoughts.

Fran Morgan grabbed her son in a tight hug. "How have you been holding up?" Knowing he couldn't lie to his mom, he looked away. "Derek…"

"We'll talk later Mom." He was so tired and just wanted lay down and regroup and reenergize. But seeing the look Amy's father was casting his way let him know that the battle was only beginning.

"She called us that night," Josephine spoke up.

"She did?" Derek was surprised. Josephine's comment didn't go past Hotch and Rossi.

"She called to tell us that you proposed and you were flying out to see us in a couple of weeks."

Fran looked at Derek. Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, he shifted his weight and looked at the ground. "I was going to call you. We got tied up at work with this case."

She kissed his cheek. "I'm not angry. I understand."

Hotch spoke up. "You said that Amy called you that night?" Josephine nodded. "Do you remember what time she called?"

Josephine bit her lip as she tried to remember. "We are an hour behind…uh, I guess, uh, she called about nine our time."

"How long did you talk?"

"Forty-five minutes…maybe an hour."

"She didn't mention anyone in the house? No suspicious noises? No one lurking around the house?" Hotch didn't mean to be prying, but he had to know. Amy's parents hadn't been questioned, but it had never occurred to him that she might have called someone.

"What are you suggesting, Agent Hotchner, that Amy might have let the killer in?" Dean's voice became hard. "Should we be getting a lawyer?"

"No one is suggesting anything," Rossi broke in.

"If you are implying that my daughter may have brought this on herself due to some kind of impropriety, I think I have the right to know."

"Mr. and Mrs. Churchill, I know what you are going thru and how difficult this is, but the information that Amy called you that night is something we were not aware of," Rossi soothed. "This might help us determine when the attack took place and if she was under duress at the time of the call."

"Are you saying that he could have been in the house forcing her to call someone?" Josephine's voice was full of surprise and anger.

Rossi nodded. "It has happened. Some times attackers get a thrill making their victim call a loved one."

"Rossi-" Derek started.

"Morgan," Fran and Hotch replied simultaneously.

"What can you remember from that call?" Rossi prompted.

"She was excited. She told us that Derek had proposed and she said yes. But they hadn't set a wedding date. Dean asked her if she was pregnant and Amy replied that she wasn't. We talk about nothing much. She said she was learning Arabic." Josephine thought hard. "She told me about seeing a creepy man in the neighbourhood."

"When? That day?" Rossi's eyebrows shot up. The team looked at one another.

"No. No. She said she didn't even know why she was mentioning it, but she couldn't shake the bad vibes he had given her. She didn't want to worry Derek because he was on a case, but she needed to tell someone."

"Did she say who it was?" Rossi asked. The atmosphere in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife. "Think hard."

Josephine started to cry. "I'm sorry." Dean's arm went around her. "I don't remember. A vendor of some type. He worked in the neighbourhood."

"An ice cream vendor? A telephone repair man? A police officer?" Prentiss offered.

"No. No."

"A dog catcher? A postman?" Reid asked.

"I don't know," Josephine wailed.

"That's enough!" Dean ordered.

"A garbage man?" Derek asked quietly.

Josephine's eyes widened. "Yes. That's it. She said a garbage man made a vulgar pass at her."

"Did she mention what he looked like?" Hotch asked and shot Rossi a knowing look. They finally had a break. Prentiss stepped out of the room.

"No. She mentioned that she was afraid to stay alone but that she had an alarm system and Derek would be home later that night."

Rossi, Hotch, and Derek shot each other a look that spoke volumes. The alarm hadn't been set and Derek was not due home that night. Could Amy have sensed someone was lurking around the house and wanted to scare them off?

Rossi nodded and left the room to follow Prentiss. The remaining team members waited in silence.

"What does this mean?" Dean demanded.

"Unfortunately nothing right now. Director Cockerel, Dr Reid, would you escort the Churchills and Morgans to Amy's room, please? I need to speak to Director Strauss alone." Hotch waited as the families were lead out of the waiting room. After the door closed, Strauss went into director mode.

"What the hell is going on Agent Hotchner?"

"I think we broke the case," Hotch replied matter of fact.

"Is that why you and Agent Rossi relentlessly interrogated Mrs. Churchill?"

"It wasn't interrogation; it was fact finding. When she mentioned that Amy had called her, I figured she knew something."

"So you decided to browbeat her?" Strauss huffed. "I don't understand you and Agent Rossi's methods, but I draw the line at the methods you are using. Have you forgotten that the Churchill's daughter is fighting for her life?"

"No ma'am." Hotch waited. "Have you forgotten that this man has killed twelve women and maimed two?"

Strauss went to reply when the door opened. Rossi stepped over the threshold.

"Prentiss just got a text from JJ; we are needed down at the office."

"This better be good," Strauss glared at both men.

Rossi didn't hide the thrill of victory in his voice. "It's better than good; a guy showed up at the BAU claiming he works with our UNSUB."

It may not have been their greatest moment, but Hotch and Rossi both made a mental note to mark that day on their calendars when Strauss was rendered completely speechless.

Rossi stepped aside as Strauss squared her shoulders and swiftly stepped out of the room. Tossing Hotch the keys to the SUV, he grinned. "Wanna drive?"

"My pleasure. Go get the others."

Rossi nodded and quick stepped to get his team.


	12. Chapter 12

_The wall is closing in. Mac is running out of places to hide. He is about to run into the team, but I have no sympathy. He made his bed, now he can lie in it. Poor Derek -he is so torn right now, and running on empty- it's not going to make for a pleasant situation when the take down happens. Will he turn into Hotch? Or will he be able to walk away? I guess it's time we find out. I don't own Criminal Minds._

_Yes, there will be the ominous 13th chapter to wrap it all up._

**Part Of The Plan**

The team raced from the parking lot of the BAU headquarters to the familiar bullpen. It was almost comical to see Director Strauss try to keep up with her team. Almost. No one had suggested that she come along -she could have stayed at the hospital and let Hotch handle the witness- but like all things, she wanted to be a part of it.

Prentiss had taken a quick glance at the director as Hotch raced down the freeway and noticed the greenish colour around her tightened features. Prentiss knew it was wrong to gloat, but Hotch's driving wasn't that bad. At least Strauss could guarantee on keeping her breakfast with Hotch; had she gone with Morgan and Reid…well, breakfast and the director's sanity would have been history. Okay, Prentiss was going to gloat -later after the UNSUB was caught.

As the elevator inched slowly to the BAU level, all the team were in control as Strauss tried to catch her breath. The loud ping sounded and the doors opened. Rushing out, Hotch reached JJ first.

"I take it you drove?" JJ asked knowingly.

"Nothing wrong with riding shot-gun," Rossi answered with a straight face. JJ caught Strauss's pained expression.

"Ah."

"So, where is this witness?" Hotch asked.

"Right over here. Mr. Israel," JJ called. A big burly red-haired man with a ruddy complexion stood up. Hotch walked over to him.

"SSA Hotchner. This is SSA Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, and Dr Reid. And Director Strauss." Floyd shook their hands. "Agent Jarreau said you may think you know who our UNSUB is."

"UNSUB?"

"Unknown subject," JJ supplied. "Perpetrator."

"I don't know about that. I just know what I know and what I saw." He looked at Morgan. "I'm sorry about your woman; if I had even suspected, I would have come in earlier."

"You do realize that there is a reward?" Strauss supplied. Inwardly the team groaned. They were practically out of leads and she was about to chase off the only one they had.

Floyd nervously fiddled with the ball cap in his hands. "I don't give a flyin' flip about the money. I want that son of a bitch caught. He hurt that pretty little lady and personally, he should have his legs broken. If I had my dithers, I would say screw the money and let me at him."

Strauss swallowed hard. Rossi and Hotch glanced at each other knowingly for the second time in the same hour. This was going down in the record books.

"So you know the guy?" Rossi asked.

"I work with him. His name is Mac Case."

"What makes you so sure it's him?" Hotch inquired.

"I remember -it was last week- we were over on Windsor Crest. I didn't see a trash can, so we passed her house. She chased us down. I took the bag from her and said good morning…I think. Then Mac came over and Amy got defensive. I thought it might be because she was wearing a robe. But when she turned and left, Mac kept watching. I bout near had to slap him on the head to bring him back to reality. He said something about her and how he could get someone like her to go out with him."

"Okay, but how does that make him our UNSUB?" Hotch prompted.

"I saw the article in the paper yesterday morning and I didn't put two and two together until I saw her picture. Then Mac called in sick. I thought maybe there was something suspicious, and this morning he came into work to quit. You should have seen his face; I asked him about it, but he said he got drunk at a bar and tried to pick up a married woman. He's done it before, but this was unlike any ass kicking I've ever seen. His nose was broken and he was limping. Bad."

"Broken leg?" Prentiss asked.

"No ma'am. Some one nailed him in the nut sack." Realizing he was in the presence of women, Floyd blushed and ducked his head. "Sorry. Now I ain't too bright, but I've been in my share of fights and I know that only a woman kicks down there. That is a sacred area for a man."

"So you think it was him that night?" Rossi questioned with an air of authority. "How do we know it wasn't you?"

"Because Mac hates women. I don't think I've ever seen him with a woman and whenever he gets close to one, they run for cover. He's been beat up like nothing I've ever seen, and to top it off, Mac is bald."

Hotch dialed Garcia. "Garcia?"

"Depends, are you alone?"

"Mixed company."

"Code for the director is in the house. Got it. Guess I'll have to save my superior and witty come back for another call."

Hotch appeared relieved while Rossi appeared amused. "I need you to pull up a Mac Case. He works for the sanitation department."

"Just a second…Okay, I have a Mac Case, but when I cross referenced his city fingerprints with the police data systems it turns out that isn't his real name…Oooo, that's not good."

"What is it?" Rossi asked.

"He's a trouble magnet. I just pulled up a couple of mug shots starting from the eighth grade. Seems he has more aliases than I have shoes. That will prove to Kevin that I don't need a storage unit to store them."

"Garcia," Hotch warned.

"Got it boss. From what I can gather it seems he has lived in or near every city that had similar crimes to what we are investigating. Plus, he has warrants out in 8 states for one thing or another."

"Well, he's ours now."

"Does he have an address?" Strauss demanded impatiently.

"Funny you should ask that because I do. Only that can't be right."

"What?"

"Well, the address on the city's file has him located in a graveyard for abandoned trains."

Hotch drew his brows together. "What about-?"

"Using his phone number to track his whereabouts? Already on it. I've narrowed it down to the cell tower on Lincoln and Grant. There is a halfway house in that area. I can't see him staying anywhere else."

"Thanks Garcia."

"Do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Take this bastard down."

"You have my promise, Kitten," Rossi spoke up.

"Garcia out!"

Hotch closed the phone.

"That was a really strange call," Floyd observed.

"No, that was pretty calm and normal," Rossi countered. He turned to Hotch and Strauss. "What's the plan?"

"We get a team together. If he leaves the city, we could lose him. Morgan, you go with Rossi. Prentiss you come with me and Reid."

"What about me?" Floyd asked.

"JJ will take care of you. There's some paper work that needs to be done." Hotch turned to Strauss. "Would you like to go with us Director?"

Strauss waved him off. "I'll sit this one out. I'll wait for your call."

Hotch gave one last look at his team. "Let's go."  
_

Mac had just lain down. It had taken everything he had to make it in to work earlier and now he was drained. He was sure that he had more than a couple broken ribs. But worse than anything, he couldn't stop the burning pain between his legs.

At first he thought the pain was from where that bitch had nailed him, but even after two days of constant ice packs the pain was getting worse. Mac was no doctor, but it appeared that one nut sack was larger than the other. Just moving an inch caused his teeth to hurt. He was going to have to break down and see a doctor.

But right now he just wanted to sleep. Drifting off, he heard sirens. _Were they getting closer?_ Sitting up on the side of the bed, he forced himself up and to the window. Looking down he saw the cluster of police cars. Three guys jumped out in vests screaming **FBI**.

"Shit!" Mac cursed. With everything he had, Mac disregarded the pain and bolted out the front door and down the hall. Climbing thru the window, he started down the fire escape. He hit the ground running -or something that resembled running.

"He's over here!" Prentiss shouted. "Freeze! There is nowhere to go."

Desperate, Mac stopped, bent over and picked up a beer bottle. Seeing Prentiss standing alone, he flung the object at her. At the last second, Prentiss ducked, which gave Mac an opportunity to run.

Out of nowhere a figure tackled Mac to the ground. Rolling on the ground, Morgan tightened his grip. Coming to a stop, Mac threw a punch. Morgan's head snapped back. Shaking off the pain, he pummeled Mac with more anger than he thought himself capable.

"You enjoy raping and slicing women? You like drawing smiley faces in their blood? You think you're tough but you met your match with the last woman you tried to kill. She kicked your ass," Morgan thundered as he kept throwing blows. Mac threw his arms to protect his face.

"Stop!" Mac pleaded for mercy. But Morgan was oblivious to his distress. "I give up!"

"Morgan! Stop!" Rossi commanded.

"He hurt those women. And he hurt Amy," Morgan growled, and looked straight into Mac's eyes.

"I know. And he will be tried for all of them. Get up." Rossi trained his weapon on the prone figures on the ground.

"Rossi…"

"Don't make me shoot you." Rossi's words were clipped and precise.

Morgan felt the fight ebb from his body. Throwing Mac down, he got to his knees and stood up.

"Police brutality," Mac sobbed.

"Nope. We're Feds, and I am sure that we can prove that your injuries were sustained _before_ we caught you. And when the match is made from the blood on Amy Churchill's hand to yours -well, then the case becomes federal since the last woman you attacked is an FBI agent….who is going to live, by the way," Rossi soothed to his prisoner. "And then we tack on assault of a federal agent with a deadly weapon…well, I hope you have a helluva good public defender."

Prentiss walked over to cover Rossi and Morgan. "Rossi, he doesn't look too good. Should I phone for EMS?"

"May as well; this guy deserves his day in court." Rossi placed the handcuffs on Mac wrists and then stood with a foot on his chest.

Nothing was spoken for a long moment.

"This earns me 'Best Man' status, right?" Rossi gloated to Morgan, but his eyes were on Prentiss. Morgan glanced at his partners. Shaking his head, he just chuckled.  
_

It was a happy team entering the hospital wing where Amy was being kept.

Word had spread that the Smiley Face Killer had been captured and the news organizations were eager to get the story. Fortunately, Walter Reed was a media free zone and the press had to stay behind the barriers. The clamoring became such that in the end JJ stepped up and told that there would be a press conference and everything would be revealed.

During this Morgan was trying to make peace with Amy's family.

"I never meant for this happen," Derek apologized.

"We know. Agent Jarreau explained everything."

"I want you to know that I would lay my life down for Amy. She is my heart."

"I know," Jacqueline dabbed at her eyes.

"That's all great but it doesn't clear up the fact that you broke a cardinal rule with my daughter."

"I can move out until the wedding," Derek offered.

"No."

Derek looked confused. Then Fran stepped up on tip-toe and whispered: "You forgot to ask Dean's permission for Amy's hand."

Releasing a relieved breath, Derek squared his shoulders. "Mr. Churchill, I want you to know that Amy is the most incredible and beautiful woman I have ever known. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her -even lay my life down should it be required. I will support her dreams and desires. And in due time I hope that we can share our love through our children. And that is why I am asking permission for Amy's hand in marriage. Sir."

Dean gave Derek a long hard look. "Just so we are clear that babies arrive nine months _after_ the wedding."

Derek nodded in agreement. "Yes sir."

"Then you have my blessing." Shaking Derek's hand, Dean drew him into a hug.

Just then a nurse appeared.

"Agent Morgan?"

Derek pulled away. "I'm Agent Morgan."

"We need you down in Miss Churchill's room. Stat!"

Throwing everyone a look, Derek took off in a run. Rushing thru the door, Derek did a double take. The respirator was gone.

Rossi stood up. "Ah, there's the man of the hour. We were just talking about you. I've been trying to convince her that you _are_ Superman. Maybe you can talk some sense into her." Rossi threw a wink at Amy. Walking over, he patted Derek's back swiftly. "Be gentle with her."

"Stay out of the broom closets with Prentiss," Morgan countered.

"Actually I was going to check up on our latest capture and see if he is out of surgery yet. But thanks for the broom closet idea. I haven't used that one yet."

"Get out!" Morgan ordered. Rossi laughed and closed the door behind him. Morgan walked over to Amy's side.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Amy rasped.

"The raspy goes away after a couple of days." He sat down and took her hand in his. "We got him."

"I know."

"Don't tell me that you are gloating over that?"

"No; I finally got to meet the famous David Rossi." Her eyes were glowing.

"Uh uh! He better keep his hands off my woman! Besides, he has Prentiss."

"I know."

"Is there anything you don't know?"

"Where is my ring?"

Derek reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the Amethyst ring. "This one?" Amy nodded. "You realize that once I slip this on, you are mine?"

"Yes."

"And it's official because I asked your father for your hand in marriage." Slowly, Derek slid the ring on Amy's finger. "There. Right where it belongs."

"Yes." Derek quickly kissed her.

"I love you."

"I love you too Derek. So what did Dave mean that he had to check up on the capture and surgery?"

Derek laughed. "Well my love, it seems that when he attacked you, you gave him a run for his money. Four broken ribs, a herniated disk, a broken nose…and that kick you delivered caused a strangulated testicle. Seems he waited too long to have it treated and now it has to be removed. So now, not only does he go to prison with the reputation of having his ass kicked by a woman, but he's one jewel less in his treasure chest."

"Oh well," Amy breathed. "I feel a little sorry for him."

"Don't you dare!"

"Let it go Derek."

Derek leaned forward with his forehead pressed against Amy's. "I will. Just let me get used to having you alive."

"Okay." Amy felt Derek's arms go around her, and then she closed her eyes as she released a deep breath. She had never felt safer than at that moment.


	13. Epilogue

_Ah! The ominous 13th chapter! I never planned for it to go this far but alas, here we are. Well, the bad guy got caught, the heroine survived, and the knight saved the day! Sometimes it doesn't get better than that, but maybe it could. Thanks to all who read, reviewed, or dropped me a private comment: You could never know how much it meant and still means to me. You guys are the best!_

_I don't own Criminal Minds._

_This chapter is dedicated to Matt, Paula, Celia, Trista, and Tracia -you're the reason I keep writing!_

**Part Of The Plan**

There might not be a heaven on earth, but the beautiful summer day Arlington had been blessed with would have had people begging to differ. Pleasant, warm, and a light breeze off the Potomac…miracles would never cease.

It was a day for skipping work and going to the beach. For sleeping late. For relaxing with a loved one. For pondering the questions of life.

Derek Morgan decided on the latter.

Sitting on a marble bench under an Apple Blossom tree, he took in the life around him. Had it only been 3 short months since the Smiley Face Killer had been caught? Sometimes it didn't seem that long ago and yet when he thought about it, it seemed like years had passed.

That case had made Derek reevaluate his life and priorities…and question his faith. He wanted to believe that God had delivered Floyd to the BAU to crack the case, but at the same time, it could have gone the other way. So would that have been God's doing too?

And Amy…if the alarm had been set would it have made a difference? Probably not. If a dog could bark all night, who would get up to investigate an alarm?

But what surprised him the most was the anger he felt when they had finally cornered their UNSUB. He had almost gone down the same road as Hotch, and it was frightening. More frightening than anything he had ever felt before. Yet, at the same time it was so exhilarating -to the point of being addictive. Now he understood the rush killers felt and how they had to keep killing to maintain that high.

However, Derek was too wise to fall into that trap. He had a family, friends, and a job -he had responsibilities and a partner who threatened to shoot him. He had meant to ask Rossi if he really would have followed thru. Then again, if the shoe had been on the other foot, would he have been able to say the same thing to his partner? He would like to never know the answer to that question.

Then there was Amy. Beautiful courageous, full of fight Amy. The love of his life. The keeper of his heart. And she loved him. Just the other night after making love, she had mentioned that she wanted to start a family as soon as possible -even if it meant that she walked down the aisle big as a house.

Her revelation not only threw Derek for a loop, but it had scared the hell out of him. Probably more than any serial killer ever had. It kept him awake many nights and nag at the back of his mind: kids. At the beginning he had wanted lots of kids -he wanted the house filled with laughter and fights and running feet…and the kisses that would greet him at night when he came home.

Well, he had…until the last case. He had not only seen the dark side of humanity at its worst, but he had gotten a glimpse of his own dark side. He couldn't tell Amy what had happened and now that he had seen himself for who he really was, it would be impossible for him to marry her -much less bring children into this hell hole of a world.

But how to tell her? Good question. Great question. And no answer was to be found.

So he decided to get away and do something and work out a solution to the problem. However no matter how he cut it, diced it, or looked at it, he always came up short. He had to find a way to let her down gently and walk away. How?

All of these thoughts were going thru Derek's mind as soft footsteps approached from behind. Keeping his eyes forward on nothing in particular, he let the footsteps complete their mission.

"Thought I might find you out here."

"Hey Dave."

Dave looked around at the beautiful scenery. "Mind if I sit?" Derek shrugged and moved over. A long stretch of silence grew between them. Bending over, Dave rested his elbows on his knees. "You know, when I was a young agent and just starting at the FBI, I used to run here to get away from it all."

"You don't say."

"I think I memorized how many trees were in the park by the time I made my first promotion." Silence. "They don't have Apple Blossoms in Commack and it was quite a surprise the first time I saw them bloom. It was the second most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life."

"Oh really?" Derek replied flatly. "What is the first?"

"The love you and Amy share."

Derek looked sharply at Dave. "What? Are you kidding me?"

"I've been married three times…you think I don't know true love when I see it?"

"Which is probably why you've been married three times?"

"Touché. You saved Prentiss, so I will let you have that jab. But honestly, in a way, you are correct. I loved my wives, but I don't think I ever experienced true love with either one. Some people can live on plain love, and for others the missing piece is too much to handle so they have to walk away. But true love is that rare ingredient that people like me will sell their soul to experience just once. So we marry wrong people, have affairs, risk our lives, and run away from commitments because we know we'll never have it"

Dave pushed up his jacket sleeves and let Derek absorb his words.

"True love is the feeling that you would lay your life down without hesitation. Also, you would do anything to make the other person happy -even if it goes against your better judgment. And 50 years later you would do it all over again. I never felt that with any of my wives. I guess toward the end we felt something toward one another, but I don't think it had anything to do with wishing we could do it all over."

Dave plucked the nearest flower and rolled the stem between his fingers.

"So, tell me: why are you leaving Amy high and dry and running away?"

"I'm not running away."

"You're not talking to her; in my book that's called running away. I thought you loved her."

"That is why I have to do this."

Dave let out a long breath. "I take back what I said in the hospital; you are not an anal-retentive bastard…you are a coward. That is something I never thought I'd live to see."

"I'm not a coward," Derek countered.

"Then what would you call it?" Silence. "Derek, we have known each other for quite a while now. You've been there for me, and I've been there for you. And I would like to think that we are more than partners…we're friends. So, as a friend, I need to ask you: what is eating you?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit! I may not be a first class interrogator but I am one helluva profiler, and I can tell that you are miserable and sad. Whatever is eating you is slowly devouring your soul and that's not pleasant for anyone. You want to leave Amy before she gets in to deep, well, you're too late."

"What do you mean?"

"I promised Emily I wouldn't say anything, but Amy called her this morning and told her that the stick turned blue. So, whatever that beast is that has you in a strangle hold -well you better kick its ass now because you are about to become a father. Whether you want to or not."

Derek bit his lip and tried to hide the tears. _Amy was pregnant? Dear God, this couldn't be happening._

Dave watched the tears stream down his friend's cheek. "Are you going to tell me what has you upset?"

"I'm no good for her!" Derek snapped and jumped up from the bench and started pacing.

Dave raised his eyebrow and gave a half smile of mirth. "Ah. It hurts when the truth smacks us alongside the head, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"When Life wakes us up and makes us realize that we're not perfect and no matter how we try to take the world onto our shoulders, we will never be Superman. Then again, maybe we are Superman because we all have our Kryptonite. Yours is the love you feel for Amy."

"She thinks I'm invincible."

Dave shrugged indifferently. "And if she does?"

"I'm not! I almost killed a man -with my bare hands." Dave just watched his friend pace. "I had my hands around his throat and I could feel his heartbeat under my skin. And for that one split second I felt myself being lured to the dark side…and it felt good. But it scared me."

"At least you acknowledged it."

"I could have killed him."

"You didn't. You didn't give in. You did the right thing."

"You threatened to shoot me!"

"Sometimes we all need a push in the right direction," Dave offered. "We've all been there. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You recognized it, so the next time it happens, you can walk away without my help."

"Hotch went down that road. And I know how he feels, and I don't know if I could live with myself."

"You're not Hotch. You're Derek Morgan. Your threshold is different from his. The circumstances are also nothing alike. Comparing your grief to his is like trying to compare Yankee Stadium to Soldier Field."

Derek stopped and looked Dave in the eye. "Amy forgave him." Dave raised his eyebrow and stayed silent. "You agree with her!"

"Forgiveness is a personal decision. Only you make the choice right for you."

"Would you?"

"I don't know. But that isn't what's eating you? You can't forgive yourself. And you think if Amy finds out she is going to stop loving you."

"It hurts."

"You think it's going to hurt any less when you're carrying that burden around while trying to raise a child?"

"I can't be you or my mom and pretend that nothing happened and move on. I don't have that kind of faith."

"That isn't faith. Faith is believing that when you forgive you will never forget the lessons and at the same time you don't repeat the same mistakes. Faith is having the strength to stop beating the dead horse and hoping you still find your way. Faith is knowing that there is light at the end of the tunnel. It's also knowing that no matter the circumstances, you can make a difference."

Dave stood up. "You have faith Derek. You have to; to be able to do this job with anything less than faith would be impossible. You've done nothing wrong. You didn't kill your dad. You weren't responsible for Elle or Gideon. You couldn't have stopped Hotch or saved Haley even if you had been there. And you didn't cause the UNSUB to attack Amy."

"That is what I don't get: the why. Why did it happen?"

"Because it's part of the plan God has for us. He judges us on our faith and sometimes he throws obstacles in our way to test our faith. Sometimes we fail. Sometimes we're left jaded. And sometimes we pass. You passed."

"I wish I could have your faith."

"You have it; you just have to build upon it. Like love. One baby step at a time." Dave looked at his watch. "Speaking of baby steps, if you don't get inside quick, you might be helping deliver your first child with Amy's father chasing you down."

Derek smiled. A real smile. "She told you?"

"Unlike my threat, I am pretty sure he will follow thru." Dave replaced the carnation in his lapel. "How does it look?"

"Good. Me?"

"You'll pass."

"I thought you were supposed to be my best man!"

"Doesn't mean I have to lie to you."

Together they walked toward the chapel and up the steps. At the top, Derek stopped and looked around.

"Last breath of freedom before you take the plunge?" Dave chided.

"You should know!"

Suddenly the door burst open and Penelope and Emily rushed out.

"Where have you two been?" Penelope demanded. "The ceremony is about to start!"

"Calm down Baby Girl; they can't start without us." Derek gave her a swift kiss. Penelope started fussing with his tuxedo jacket.

"Just the same, you can't be late to your own wedding; it's bad luck." Brushing away the stray lint, she stood back and smiled. "There. Perfect."

Emily huffed. "What do you mean 'perfect'? He's still Derek Morgan. There is still time to kidnap Amy and save her."

"Don't you dare!" Morgan countered. "I'll make sure she throws you the bouquet if you even attempt it."

Dave cleared his throat and Emily smiled primly. Holding up her left hand, she shook her ring finger. "Throw it to Penelope; I'm not going to need it."

Penelope squealed and grabbed Emily in a tight bear hug. "You little scamp! You weren't going to tell us, were you?"

"We were going to announce it at the reception."

Derek looked at Dave. "I guess my faith is stronger than I gave myself credit."

The organ sounded. "Come on. Let's get this show on the road," Dave announced and gave Emily a quick kiss. "See you at the altar."

Trying to be invisible to the guests, Derek and Dave rushed to their spots at the end of the aisle. Watching the procession of flower girls and bridesmaids and groomsmen, Derek watched his friend's eyes glow as Emily made her way toward them.

The music shifted and the audience stood up. Derek felt his breath catch in his chest as Amy and her father made their way down the cream colored carpet. Then it dawned on Derek what Dave had been trying to tell him. Life has no rhyme or reason, you have to decide to live and accept and someday all you seek will be found.

Just before Amy made it to the duo, Derek nudge Dave.

"That day in the alley…would you have really shot me?"

Keeping his eyes straight ahead and his face expressionless, Dave replied: "Yes."

Derek's mouth twitched. "Okay."

The music ended and Amy was beside him. Turning toward his bride, Derek gave her a quick kiss. Then he took her hands in his and married her.


End file.
